Daughter of Krypta
by TaleSpinner1
Summary: A young girl joins the Temple to Krypta and discovers that she possesses a hidden power. Please R&R. (COMPLETED!)
1. Chapter 1

The Wailing Wind Inn preyed solely upon unfortunate travelers who were unable to make it through the Kings Highway by nightfall. The moderate sleeping lodgings and less-than-moderate ale encouraged travelers to sleep early and leave by the first light of morning. 

This was fine with the owner, a thin, wry man named Darren who, against all traditional innkeepers throughout history, actually detested strangers and visitors. He had inherited the inn from his father and maintained it as the inn provided a means of living for him and his family. Travelers were dealt with measured politeness and over-measured room-rates. Darren dreamed of the day he would sell his establishment and take up a job which did not quite involve so many people, like money-counting at the Royal Treasury. 

He was in the midst of one of these day-dreams when the door of his inn banged open, flooding the taproom with the cold evening air. A small group of dirt-stained travelers entered the tap room. Darren's well-versed eye picked out his newcomers, a burly warrior and a smaller person in a green cloak. The warrior's eyes shifted across the near-empty tap room before proceeding towards the bar. It was only then when Darren noticed a slender, hooded figure in a brown traveling cloak behind the warrior. The figure followed the warrior slowly, gloved hands gripped on a pale staff. _A female,_ he guessed as he tried to see the third person's face under the hood. _Probably the warrior's woman._ As he regarded the woman, Darren noticed the Inn's resident dog, a mean-tempered mongrel tastefully named "Bread-and-butter", get up from its place-of-honor next to the fireplace and disappear into the kitchen. He thought he heard old Bread whimper as it slunk away. 

The warrior reached the bar where Darren was. "Two rooms for the night, friend innkeeper." 

Darren's averted his eyes from the strange, unnerving figure and looked at the warrior. He was middle-aged with a touch of gray in his hair. His armour and sword showed signs of wear and constant maintenance. Battle experience emanated from him; Darren could tell by the way he stood, and the way his eyes gazed intently and caught everything. 

"Do you have anything to eat?" the green cloaked man queried, making Darren start in surprise. He did not notice the small man coming up to the bar. He regained his composure. "Yes, we have some roast on the spit. I can prepare three meals in half an hour." 

"Thank you, friend innkeeper. Could you show us the rooms?" 

"Of course, sir. Will you be sharing your room with your lady friend?" 

The hooded figure shifted and Darren sensed irritation. The warrior coughed uneasily. "Um, no. The priestess gets one room and we'll take the other." 

_A priestess!,_ thought Darren. It was then he saw the tell-tale red-robe under the traveling cloak and matched it with the bone-white staff. _That probably explains why I've got hairs standing at the back of my neck. But if she's a priestess, then where is her troupe of walking bones?_ "My sincere apologies, sister. Follow me, please." The innkeeper led the trio to a short corridor and pointed at two doors. 

As the priestess passed, Darren could not control his curiosity. "Pardon me, sister, but being a priestess, where are your um.. skeleton servants? Only, I thought priestesses always had a few.." 

A icy glare from the hooded woman stopped Darren mid-sentence. After a moment, she turned away and proceeded down the corridor to the guest room. 

The warrior clapped his hand on the innkeeper's shoulder in a comrade fashion. "Trust me, friend innkeeper, she's definitely a priestess. You just wouldn't want to find out the hard way." 

In the guest room, the priestess drew back her hood, revealing her midnight-black hair tied in a tight bun of discipline. She was surprisingly young for a priestess, perhaps no more than eighteen years of age. The priestess laid her staff against the corner and sat on the hard bed, not bothering to light up the dark room, and took a deep breath. Weariness threatened to stoop her posture, but even alone, the priestess kept herself seated upright and rigid. She closed her eyes and let her memories sweep her tired mind to a small wood-cutter's village in the not-so distant past.

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"The Laws of Dauros bring order and light to the world, fighting back the darkness of chaos which threaten to consume it." 

Sunlight glinted off the upraised long sword of the paladin, making it shine with an almost golden aura. Captivated by the paladin's weapon, the circle of young girls stared in admiration, gasps of awe mingled with whispers and giggles. 

"Megan, what does Basille, the city of Dauros look like?" "Is the training hard, Meg?" "When do you get to handle your own sword, Meg?" 

Megan slid her sword back into its well-kept scabbard and smiled at her fascinated audience. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Father Duncan nodding in amusement. She grinned at her Teacher before turning back to the girls. "My, that was a barrage of questions!" A burst of laughs and giggles. Megan decided to answer the second question. "I suppose you can say that the training is very tough, and I'm not even fully-trained yet myself! But with the grace of Dauros, and a whole lot of determination, you can get by." 

Another flood of excited questions, but Megan was only half-listening. She looked around before finally spotting a lone figure walking away some distance off. Megan pursed her lips thoughtfully before returning to the attentions of her audience. 

Lydith sat under the shade of a large oak tree and leaned against the warm bark. All her life, the tree had simply been called the Big Oak by the people in her village. Her father, a seasoned wood-cutter, used to tell her about how truly magnificent the tree was. _See the size of the base trunk,_ he would start. _This tree must have stood here even before our enterprising forefathers moved into the surrounding lands. It must have seen hundreds of seasons and witnessed thousands of events that have changed the world as we know it. If only the tree could talk,_ he would muse, _then we all would be a whole lot wiser._

Lydith smiled to herself as she fondly remembered her father's 'tree-talks'. _With such admiration for a tree,_ she would say to him, _it is ironic that you work as a wood-cutter._ As this he would laugh and reply in a lecturing tone, _One should always respect the things one works with, even if it involves chopping them down._ He would then give her a goodbye peck on the cheek before moving off to join the other wood-cutters as they began their trek into the forest. 

"Thought I'd find you here." 

Lydith looked up in surprise. Megan was peering around the oak tree with a warm smile on her face. 

Lydith managed to smile back. "Oh, hi Megan." She looked behind the paladin-in-training. There was no sign of the other girls. "Where're the rest?" 

Megan laughed. "They're now crowding around Father Duncan who's giving them a droning lecture on the enlightening path of Dauros. With any luck, only a few will survive." 

Lydith smiled, genuinely this time. "You're always such a brat, Megan. You've not changed since you left for the city of Dauros." 

"Am not! Two seasons is loads of time to change and don't you think I'm now more cultured and refined?" 

"No, you're still the same, even after two seasons. The only real difference is that you've now got a sword to poke people who don't think so." 

"Why you imprudent little harpy! I'll poke you with this big knife of mine to teach you a lesson!" 

The paladin-in-training proceeded to rib a squealing Lydith with the end of her scabbard. Lydith tried to grab the offending weapon holster before she gave up and tried to reach for her attacker's ribs, all the while laughing until she was out of breath. They finally pronounced a cease-fire and lay down side-by-side under the tree. 

Lydith stared up to the leaves of the great tree. "I'm glad to see you again, Megan. It's been so boring here without you." 

Megan sat up and her eyebrows started to notch together. Lydith recognized the expression. Megan's eyebrows always did that when she wanted to say something serious. "I need to talk to you, Lydith." 

"About what?" 

"About your future. Father Duncan brought me along with him because he knew that I come from this part of the country and would know the people here. We're looking for new recruits to join us in the city. These recruits will be trained as paladins, like me." 

A curious mixed feeling of uneasiness and excitement leapt in Lydith's heart. "So what does this have to do with me?" 

Megan smacked Lydith's knee playfully. "You know what I'm talking about! I want you to follow us to Basille and become a paladin! I think that's the only way to convert your harpy ways to become more clean and civilized!" 

Lydith laughed. "But Megan, I can't! What about my father? He'll be left all alone here with no one to help him." 

"The Sovereign compensates the parents of those who enter His service. Your father can finally retire and live off the monthly pension that His Majesty will provide. Imagine, Lydith! We'll become paladins and travel together and have loads of adventures by ourselves, just like how we always dreamed we would!" 

Lydith grinned at her excited friend. A chance to go out into the world and do what she pleased. A chance which she continually dreamed about, even more so after her best friend left the village to join the order of Dauros. She finally nodded. "Alright. But I'll have to talk to father first." 

"Yes! I knew you would come! A brainless little harpy like you is no match for the clever manipulation of a student of Dauros!" 

The cease-fire ended abruptly at that point.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lydith hurried through the village. Megan had gone to report to Father Duncan and had told her that they would be leaving ThistleWood in a few days. Lydith hoped that her father was in a good mood. She passed the blacksmiths' and took a turn that brought her near the village square. 

"Why, if it isn't the ugliest ratling of them all." 

Lydith grimaced. She should have taken a longer route along the edge of the forest. Either that or asked to borrow Megan's sword before cutting through the village. She turned to face the speaker. 

"Hello Sharielle. I see that you've decided to walk your pets today." 

Sharielle tossed her golden curls back. A group of three or four other youths stood near their leader, waiting for the command to lunge and attack. "You're in a rare mood today, Lydith. Seeing Megan must have shed off some of your stodginess." 

If anyone had left ThistleWood two seasons ago, Lydith wished it was Sharielle. She was the only daughter of the local tax-collector and lived right in the heart of the village, next to the square. Her father doted on her constantly and gave her whatever her devious little heart desired. Since childhood, she always had an admiring and envious crowd of followers who listened to her every word and became accomplices in her cunning schemes. When Lydith refused to be part of Sharielle's little ring, she became a regular target for the group's amusement. 

"Well, Lydith. It seems that Megan has finally changed from an ugly ratling that she used to be. Can't say the same for you, I'm afraid." 

Lydith gave an unamused smile. "We'll see. I will be following her to the city of Dauros and when I get back, I'll be able to do more than show off my sword to you." 

Sharielle's right eyebrow arched. "Is that so? Since when did the monks of Dauros choose daughters of vile priestesses' to join the holy Order?" 

Lydith gritted her teeth. "You will not talk about my mother that way." 

Sharielle moved in for the kill. "My father always said that your father was lucky that she never came back. She would have cursed his life and ruined the reputation of the village." 

Unable to restrain herself, Lydith swung a slap at Sharielle's face. The tax-collector's daughter was half-expecting this and managed to barely dodge the blow. However, Lydith's fingernails scored a scratch against the lobe of Sharielle's ear, drawing slight blood. Lydith did not have time to gloat as she tore off toward the direction of her home. 

Sharielle touched her bleeding ear with a look of shock and outrage. "Get her!" she screeched and the rest of the group ran after the fleeing offender. 

Lydith passed the wheat fields with the posse hot on her heels. At this time of the year, the fields had been harvested and clumps of hay mixed with soil littered the ground. Unable to reach her, the members of Sharielle's clique picked up the clumps of hay and threw them after Lydith. Hay cascaded over Lydith's head and got into her hair, but she did not slow down and finally made it to the front gate of her father's residence. 

She chanced a backward look and saw that her pursuers had given up and moved off to console their injured leader. Lydith picked the hay out of her hair and dress. One day, she vowed, she would have the opportunity to stuff hay down Sharielle's dress. Preferably ones that had lice in them.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of a door closing and the tap of a staff against the wooden floor alerted the warrior and his short companion about the priestess's approach. The warrior looked up from his breakfast and watched as the priestess moved towards their table. 

"You did not come out to eat dinner last night," said the warrior. 

"Save your concern, Gameth. My meditations to Krypta and my rest was all I required last night." She sat down at her prepared place and started to pick through the cold bread and stale meat. 

The small green-cloaked man squeaked in a shrill voice, "Oh, Gameth just peppered because Yellow Sky got to eat your meal last night before he did." A mask made out of tree bark was pushed back till it covered the top of his head like a flat hat while the little man ate his breakfast. 

Gameth snorted at the green-cloaked cultist. "You eat too much for your size, Yellow Sky. And you snore louder than a Werewolf with flu." 

The little cultist named Yellow Sky grinned. "You should see Yellow Sky drink. Too bad the ale here is too bland to fill Yellow Sky's stomach. Perhaps he should give the innkeeper some special ingredients to throw into the brew barrel." 

"Not if you want to see this place still standing when we return." 

The priestess listened half-heartedly as she ate. The bantering between her two companions had become a normal start to the day. 

Gameth finished his bread and blanched. "I can't believe how much I paid for this." He looked at the priestess. "So, Lydith. What next?" 

"The roads are too open. I don't want anyone following us to have such an easy time at it." 

Gameth reached into his tunic, pulled out an old map and spread it on the table. "Then we get off the Kings Highway and push eastwards to the Morning Star mountains and then north towards the caverns." He nodded to himself thoughtfully. "There're bandits up those mountains, especially at this time of year." 

"Yellow Sky knows a better way," sang Yellow Sky in a childish, mocking manner as he stole a piece of bread from Lydith's plate. 

"And what might that be?" 

"We go west. To the Forest of Dreams. And then we go to caverns." 

Gameth covered his eyes with one hand in exasperation. "The Forest of Dreams is an even more dangerous place than the mountains. And you wouldn't even fill a spider's stomach." 

"Not so dangerous," came the quick reply. "And spiders won't eat Yellow Sky after he charms them to eat you instead." 

"That's enough." The warrior and cultist turned to face Lydith. "I want nobody following us. And the chances are that no one will follow us into the forest." 

Gameth grunted as he picked up his map. "Suit yourself. Just stick close to the cultist, he probably thinks it would be amusing to leave us in the forest."

  
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As Lydith made her approached her home, she heard the distinct sound of wood being chopped. Upon reaching the front porch, she went around the side of the house and, as expected, saw her father chopping firewood at an old tree-stump. Her father looked up and wiped sweat off his brow. Gray had begun its descent on his dark hair which was once as dark as Lydith's. 

"Disgraceful, I tell you," he said. "Fifteen years as a village woodcutter and I still run out of firewood in my own house!" 

Lydith giggled. Her father's dry humor always found its mark in her. "Maybe if you pry your stingy fingers off your purse and buy another axe, I could chop wood too." 

Her father grinned. He then nodded towards the house. "Ready for a surprise? There's someone here to see you." 

"Really? Megan's here?" 

"No, not Megan. Why don't you go in and see for yourself?" 

Lydith moved to the front door and entered the small house. She had lived here in this house all her life. The front porch entered into a small living room and kitchen, with two bedrooms towards the back. Apart from the new paint she and her father applied last summer, nothing much ever changed in the house. The inside of the house was slightly dark, the sun never really managed to pry its way into the rooms. 

A robed figure sat at the kitchen table. Lydith recognized the person at once and ran to embrace her. "Aunt Daedra!" 

The priestess stood up to receive the embrace. Her robes were reddish-maroon, a sign of long-usage for anyone in her profession. "Careful, child! I just came in and you might get dirt all over your lovely blouse." 

But Lydith did not care and hugged her aunt. Aunt Daedra was not really related to Lydith, she was her mother's closest friend when her mother was alive. Together, they had traveled to many far places before Lydith's mother decided to settle down with her father. Aunt Daedra continued to serve her profession, visiting every few years to see her friend as well as Lydith who was born within a year of her mother's marriage. 

One day, when Lydith was twelve, Aunt Daedra had returned with urgent news and, without even explaining the reason to Lydith or her father, her mother left with Aunt Daedra. Two months passed before they saw Aunt Daedra walking slowly back to the house alone. Even before she heard the news, Lydith knew that her mother would never come back home again. 

Since then, Aunt Daedra had visited several times, each visit filled with doting on her goddaughter as she called Lydith. The last visit was a year ago, and as Lydith hugged her aunt, she could feel the years between those visits just vanish. 

"I'm so happy to see you, Aunt Daedra! You'll sleep in my room again, won't you? How long are you back for this time?" 

Aunt Daedra smiled at the girl she had watched grow up over the years. "Not very long, I'm afraid. A few days, and then I'm off to Krypta's Temple in Necroselleum. Come, child, I have a gift for you." 

Lydith released her aunt and watched as she took out a brown pouch from the confines of her robes. Lydith took the pouch and opened it. She delicately reached in with her fingers and drew out a thin, golden necklace with a small pendant shaped like a tear-drop. In the middle of the pendant, a small maroon jewel seemed to glow with its own light. 

Lydith stared at the maroon jewel in wonder. "It's beautiful, Aunt Daedra." 

"Not as beautiful as it would look on you, child. Try it on." 

Lydith put the necklace on and tried to glance downwards to see herself. Aunt Daedra gave a low chuckle. "Silly child, you'll twist your own head off doing that! You can walk to the lake later on when there's still light to see your reflection from there. Meanwhile, it's getting close to dinner time. Who's cooking tonight?" 

"Father," replied Lydith, still trying to view herself. 

"What? Tomas? Cook? Come, let me rescue ourselves and prepare us a safer meal!" 

Both Lydith and her aunt laughed as they moved into the kitchen.

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Tomas closed the kitchen door and sat down in front of Aunt Daedra. Not concerned like many in the presence of a priestess, he proceeded to finish his dinner. Bread and cheese with some left-over gravy. Megan had come around earlier asking for Lydith and both the girls had run off someplace, Tomas giving them a stern warning to stay away from the forest and be back by sundown. 

Aunt Daedra observed him as he ate. "Lydia always said that you couldn't care less if the world stopped turning once you've started eating." 

Tomas wiped some gravy off the side of his mouth. "She normally said that as an indirect self-praise to her own cooking." 

Aunt Daedra smiled. Lips painted black pulled back against a white-powdered face, an unnerving sight for any witness apart from Tomas. "You know her as well as I do." A thought passed in the priestess's eyes. "In many ways, Lydith is a lot like her mother." 

Tomas finished his simple meal and leaned back. Aunt Daedra could see that the years of simple living had not dulled the man's mind; focused thought tinged with slight suspicion reflected from his expression. "Alright, Daedra. What do you want?" 

"I think you already know what I want. Lydia was one of the greatest among our brethren, one of the most powerful among the followers of Krypta. What took many years for ordinary folk to learn, she mastered within a few months." Daedra leaned forward. "Many say that she was a chosen one of Krypta. A true daughter of the infernal goddess. Born with the power already infused within her bones. There are not many whom the goddess favors." 

A slight flicker drifted across Tomas's face. "And so what makes you think Lydith is part of this?" 

"Everyone in the Order knows that Krypta is very, very much a woman and a mother. If Lydia was one of Her daughters, that would make Lydith something of a granddaughter to the goddess." She brushed an imaginary crumb off the table. "And grandmothers are known to be very attached to their grandchildren." 

Tomas gazed down at his empty plate. "Lydith makes her own decisions. I will not stand in her way or her choices." He looked up. "However, you might find it difficult to get her to follow you. I heard that the Daurosians are here and Megan, the one who called Lydith out just now, is with them. I'm afraid Lydith might have other plans for her own future." 

Aunt Daedra stared out the kitchen window. "We'll see about that. The will of Krypta is not so easily thwarted."

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"Dauros's Blessings, Father Duncan!" 

The saintly old monk of Dauros turned and regarded the two girls. "Ah, Megan! I was looking for you. We might have to leave a bit earlier than expected." He looked at Lydith. 

Megan waved a hand extravagantly at Lydith. "This is my good friend Lydith." Lydith was slightly embarrassed as she did a small curtsy. "Good evening, Father Duncan." 

Father Duncan nodded in approval. "Dauros bless you, young one. Are you also a friend of Sharielle?" 

Lydith froze as if she had heard a demon's name. "I um.. see her around. Now and then." 

"Hello, Father Duncan! I see you've met Lydith." Sharielle approached the group, surprisingly without her little horde of followers. 

Father Duncan glanced back at Lydith and she thought saw a disturbed look in the monk's eyes. "Oh, yes. Quite right." 

Megan ignored the newcomer and patted Lydith on the back. "Father Duncan, I want to put Lydith forward to join us at Basille. She is a great sport and I just know you'll be pleased with her." 

"Ah. I've already done some recruiting myself." He gestured at Sharielle. "Sharielle here will be joining us. I've already spoken to her father who is absolutely delighted at his daughter's choice." The same troubled look crossed the monk's face again. "However, for Lydith, I'm afraid we cannot take her with us." 

Megan gave Father Duncan a stunned look. "But why not?" 

"Lydith's background is slightly.. unique and I'm afraid it is against the regulations of the Order for her to join us." 

_Why you scheming little.._, Lydith took a step forward towards Sharielle who promptly moved behind the monk. Father Duncan frowned at the furious girl. 

"I am so sorry, young one. But the law of Dauros is very specific. We cannot compromise, even for one case." 

Megan wisely pulled Lydith behind her as she stepped in front of the monk of Dauros. "But Father Duncan, I've known Lydith for years and I can tell you that she'll be the best addition to our Order! She even runs faster than me!" 

But the monk only shook his head sadly and sighed. "There is nothing I can do, young Megan." He turned towards the village inn where he was staying. "We leave at first light tomorrow." He moved off so suddenly that Sharielle found herself unprotected from the other two girls. She quickly back-stepped and started towards her own nearby home. "See you tomorrow, Megan. And goodbye, Lydith." There was a gloating tone in her voice. 

Megan turned back at her friend and was shocked to see tears streaming down Lydith's face. She put her arm around Lydith's shoulders and tried to soothe her. 

"Please don't, Lydith. It'll all be okay. I swear when I get back to Basille to our training grounds, I'll make that spoilt little wretch's life a living hell. There's a pond of mud under the monkey-swings which I promise will have Sharielle's face in it before the week is out." 

The thought of Sharielle thrashing in the mud with Megan throttling her made Lydith hiccup slightly. "Too bad I won't be there to see it." 

The two friends walked away into the night, back to Lydith's home.


	3. Chapter 3

The Forest of Dreams stretched lazily along the western side of the Kings Highway. Travelers generally avoided the forest, chancing at shortcut through its outskirts only during the day. There were tales of creatures which roamed the forest at night, gory enough to keep normal folk away. Rangers occasionally attempted to explore the deeper parts of the forest, and it was not surprising if a few did not return. 

The warrior, cultist and priestess moved cautiously through the dense undergrowth. Yellow Sky kept his spirits up by singing a silly song to himself while Gameth surveyed their surroundings, one hand constantly gripped on the hilt of his sword. The bright sunlight failed to fully penetrate the thick, broad leaves of the forest trees, casting everything around them in a somewhat hazy light. _Perhaps this was how the forest gained it's name,_ thought Lydith. _Everything looks like it's in a dream._

Several hours past morning, the little group decided to stop for a rest under a large tree. A slight wind blew, causing the leaves and branches to stir in a whispering rustle. Yellow Sky lay back on the mossy tree trunk, his hands behind his head. "Yellow Sky loves this place," he remarked. "People say that the most wondrous dreams come to he who sleeps in this forest." 

"And they'll probably be the last dreams he'll ever have," grunted Gameth as he tore a piece of dried rations. "This forest is infested with colonies of giant spiders. We'll be lucky if we don't run into any of their hunting grounds." 

A chitter sounded from the tree branches above and the trio looked up. Yellow Sky laughed when he saw a squirrel peering down at them from the lower branches. He tore a small piece of bread and threw it up. The squirrel ran to retrieve it as it landed somewhere up in the branches. "See? Even the forest creatures love Yellow Sky." 

"You don't gain love and respect through bribery," said Gameth as the squirrel scampered back and chittered imploringly at Yellow Sky for another morsel. 

Yellow Sky grinned as he tore another piece of bread. "Why not? The Sovereign gives out rewards for actions, yes?" 

"Pah! That's different! Those rewards are just incentives to.." 

An arrow struck the tree trunk inches above Yellow Sky's head. Gameth leapt up, sword already in his hand. "Take cover!" he yelled as he stood protectively in front of Lydith. 

More arrows flew into the small clearing and struck around the group. One grazed Gameth on the arm who ignored it as he scanned the nearby bushes for the offending archers. Yellow Sky dived and rolled on the ground as several arrows landed on his previous resting place. He rolled into a crouch, a small throwing dagger in his hand. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," he crooned at his unseen archers. 

The arrows stopped and a few figures emerged from the bushes and rushed at the trio. Black leather armour scraped against green skin as the attackers ran towards the warrior and cultist. "Blasted goblins!" bellowed Gameth as he parried a blow from the lead goblin which seemed larger than the rest. 

Yellow Sky whooped as he threw his dagger at another goblin, striking it in the chest. The creature gawked at the small blade and started to pull it out. As it looked up, another three daggers joined their compatriot in the goblin's chest and neck. With a gurgling choke, the goblin fell face-forward on the ground. 

Lydith looked around at the goblins. There were at least four sword-wielding goblins, excluding the one Yellow Sky just disposed of. And the archers in the bushes would not hesitate to finish the job if their goblin warriors failed to kill them. _Gameth and Yellow Sky will never find them in time, unless.._ She focused her eyes and started to chant. 

The goblin champion leader snarled as it slashed it's wicked blade at the aged warrior. Gameth parried the slash again and struck out with a series of well-executed sword thrusts. Stepping backwards to avoid the blows, the goblin champion's eyes widened as it realised that the human was still very deadly despite his age. It jabbered at the other two goblins which leapt forward to attack Gameth from both sides. The warrior lunged right, directly towards one of the goblins which hastily brought up it's blade to defend itself. Too late. The goblin blade scored a minor scratch on the warrior's shoulder as Gameth ran his sword through the goblin's guts. The creature screamed as it fell on the ground twitching. 

Another goblin cornered the cultist at the tree. Yellow Sky shrieked in seeming terror and ran sideways around the trunk of the large tree. The goblin sneered as it raced after him, only to find that the cultist had disappeared. A look of confusion passed the goblin's face. Suddenly, the bark of the tree lunged at the goblin and a dagger appeared through it's chest. The creature gaped and fell as the grinning cultist's skin changed from tree bark texture back to normal. 

The two hidden goblin archers glanced at one another as they observed the skirmish turn against their fellow goblins. They raised their bows, ready to correct the situation, when a dark shadow fell over them. Looking up, they saw the first slain goblin standing over them with a red glow emitting from it's eyes. Death magic radiated from the undead creature like a red heat shimmer, rapidly decaying the lifeless flesh and leaving gaunt bone behind. The remaining shreds of facial skin remained expressionless as the skeleton unmercifully slashed it's previous comrades over and over again. 

Gameth attacked the goblin champion ferociously as the other goblin suddenly found itself battling another goblin skeleton with guts staining it's trousers. The goblin chopped fearfully at the undead, all intentions on attacking Gameth abandoned. 

With another snarl, the goblin champion swung a downward slash that would have split the warrior's arm off if Gameth had not dodged out of the way. The warrior swiftly took advantage of the goblin's open position and chopped at it's neck. A look of surprise remained on the goblin champion's face as the head spun in the air and landed at the foot of the tree. A shriek sounded and Gameth looked to see the last goblin being dismembered by it's undead opponent. 

Yellow Sky dropped next to the goblin champion's head. "Good fight," he grinned as he kicked the head into the bushes. He looked around happily. "No dirty goblins in this forest when Yellow Sky is here!" 

Gameth grimaced and looked around for Lydith. She was standing some ways back, a look of intense concentration on her face. The two undead goblin skeletons lurched slowly towards her and stood before the priestess. A wordless conversation seemed to pass between them. 

Lydith raised her hands. "Thank you, and farewell." The two skeletons toppled to the ground, the red glow from their eyes extinguished. Lydith looked at the warrior. "Gameth, get the shovels." 

"Fervus's Mask! Why you do that for?!?" exclaimed the cultist in surprise. "Those skeletons were useful!" 

"Here, catch." Gameth threw a portable shovel at the cultist who caught it by reflex. 

"What are we supposed to do with this!?" demanded the little cultist, waving the tool as if it offended him. 

He thought he saw a slight smile on Lydith's lips. "One should always respect the things one works with, even if it involves chopping them down," the priestess replied mysteriously. 

Yellow Sky frowned. "What?" 

Gameth gave a huge laugh. "You know, I said the exact same thing to her mother. Come on, let's get this over with - it'll get dark soon."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Come along, child. It'll be best to make it to Deepen Dale before nightfall." 

Lydith struggled to adjust her heavy backpack and followed her aunt who carried a backpack even larger than hers. Despite being a middle-aged woman, Aunt Daedra walked with a tireless stride that occasionally left the younger girl trailing behind. They had been walking for almost a day along the forest road that led to the trading post town of Deepen Dale. From there, Aunt Daedra estimated that it would take another three to four days on foot to get to Necroselleum. Lydith wiped the sweat off her brow. This was just the first day of travelling and she could not imagine how exhausted she would be once they have reached their destination. 

Megan had left two weeks ago with the rest of the Daurosians and paladin recruits. Lydith did not see them off; she would not give Sharielle another opportunity to gloat at her. Megan understood and had said her good byes to Lydith the night before. 

The days after had been spent with Aunt Daedra. Over the time they spent talking to each other while doing the household chores, Aunt Daedra slowly became her listener and counselor. The recent visit by the Daurosian recruiters had stirred up feelings inside of Lydith, fanning her long-time urge to leave the village and see the world. She found herself asking her aunt more and more questions about her mother and eventually about the Ways of Krypta. 

Aunt Daedra had been honest and direct with her. "Child, if your sudden interest in the Ways of Krypta is triggered by your urge to leave this place like Megan and Sharielle, then you will not last long in the Convent of Krypta," she had told her firmly. "Becoming a priestess is not an easy process. It is a difficult ordeal, one which even I almost never got through if it weren't for the encouragement I had from your mother. And being a priestess is not just all travelling and seeing the world; there are heavy responsibilities involved in doing Krypta's work." 

Seeing the discouragement in the girl's eyes, Aunt Daedra put an arm over Lydith's shoulders and spoke softly, "Krypta's ways are strange to many, child. I cannot predict Her path for you, but you must think deeply on the choices you make for your own future. Find out what is truly in your heart and follow it." 

Lydith pondered over Aunt Daedra's words for the next few days, trying to work out the tangled feelings she had within her. Finally, she made up her mind and told her father about her decision to follow Aunt Daedra to Necroselleum. 

Tomas was quiet after her announcement; for some strange reason, Lydith felt that it had not come as a surprise to him. He then just nodded and gave her a hug. "Your mother and I are proud of you, dear one," he had spoken into her ear. "Take care, and be wary of whom you trust." 

Lydith wondered at the last few words her father had spoken. She had never known him to be the suspicious type and those words almost sounded like a warning of some danger he already knew. 

"Here we are, child. Deepen Dale." Aunt Daedra pointed down at a bustling town that now lay before them. 

Lydith stared at the first town she had ever laid her eyes upon. Compared to her small village in the woods, Deepen Dale seemed huge. The trading post town bustled with wagons bearing goods such as leathers and furs, dried meats and casks of sour wine, even logs of wood. Lydith wondered if any of those wagons had come from ThistleWood. "Do you always stop by here when you come visit us, Aunt Daedra?" 

Aunt Daedra shook her head. "No, I normally don't stop here. I just keep going and sleep in the forest if need be. But for your sake," she said while eyeing the exhausted girl, "I think it would be wiser to have a hot bath and one night's rest in a comfortable bed." 

Lydith almost kissed her aunt's feet at that. 

The two travellers entered the town and was almost completely lost in the crowded narrow streets. Eventually, Aunt Daedra spotted a fair-sized inn near the center of town and made for it. A sign bearing a bear's paw mark swung placidly above the inn's door. As they both entered the inn, Lydith saw that the taproom was half-crowded with people. The smell of pipeweed filled the air while the sounds of talking and laughter, although not deafening, required one to raise his voice to be heard. 

The innkeeper, a portly man with an apron, smiled broadly at them as they approached him. "Welcome to the Hellbear's Paw-" he began before his eyes suddenly widened upon the recognition of Aunt Daedra's robes. 

"A room for two, innkeeper," said Aunt Daedra unperturbed. "With a bathtub of hot water, if possible." 

It took several seconds for the innkeeper to regain his composure. "Ahm," he coughed. "Yes, of course, Sister." Lydith noticed that his face had turned slightly paler. 

"I think we will have our meals before we adjourn to our room," Aunt Daedra continued. She turned to Lydith. "Are you hungry, child?" 

Lydith nodded. "I'm famished." 

The innkeeper nodded, a tad too vigorously. "Two meals. Right you are, Sister." The man promptly disappeared into the kitchen, not even showing the two to an empty table. 

Aunt Daedra gave an irritated huff. "Appalling service, this place," she declared to no one in particular as they made their way to an empty table. 

Lydith sat down and pulled closer to talk to Aunt Daedra under her breath. "Aunt Daedra, I don't think it's such a good idea to be here." 

Aunt Daedra glanced around and spotted some of the inn's patrons staring at them, several of them unfriendly. "You may be right, child. Make sure that.." 

"We don't like your kind here," growled a rough voice suddenly. 

The two looked up to see a gaunt man with a scarred face looming over their table. The inn grew noticeably quieter as the taproom's patrons stopped to observe the spectacle. 

"We have no business here, young man," replied Aunt Daedra with a steely gaze. "We're leaving at first light tomorrow." 

"Damned priestess scum," sneered the man. "I said, we don't like your kind here. Get your rotting hides out of here before I throw you out." 

"That would not be wise, young man," said Aunt Daedra calmly. 

The man put his hands on his waist. "What will you do? Drain my life out, you vampire witches? Go on, show everyone what hell-spawned tricks you have." 

"She needn't do anything, friend," came another voice behind the scarred man. "Because I most definitely will." 

The man spun around. A warrior stood before him with a dark brown travelling cloak that almost hid his sword and armour. Lydith could see that the warrior was rather advanced in his years, streaks of gray touched the sides of his brown hair. 

"I would have thought that the men in this town had better manners towards women." The aged warrior stood in an easy stance, but Lydith sensed that the warrior could spring into action in a moment's notice. 

"Are you a priestess's dog then, old man?", the scarred man sneered. "Come on, show me how a priestess's dog fights." He swung a fist at the warrior's face. The warrior ducked and grabbed the man's fist with one hand. The scarred man gasped as he was pulled forwards and slammed face-first against the taproom bar-counter. The aged warrior bent down till both their eyes met. 

"I have friends who would have smashed your thick skull into a bloody pulp against this counter," he growled. "Be thankful that I'm considerate enough to know that the innkeeper would not appreciate the mess. But try that again, and the innkeeper will be spending the night scraping your scarred face off from here." He let the man go. The scarred man slid down on the floor, scrambled to his feet and made for the door, the crowd parting to let him through. 

The warrior watched the man's exit. "He won't be back," he said as he turned to sit down at the table. The rest of the taproom's patrons slowly went back to their own business. 

Lydith stared at the warrior as he and Aunt Daedra looked at each other. "What are the chances that we'd bump into each other, Daedra?" the aged warrior spoke as a grin broke out on his face. "It must be a meeting pre-arranged by the gods themselves." 

"Hmmph, I must have irked Krypta for Her to arrange me to meet you again, Gameth," replied Aunt Daedra. 

The aged warrior's grin did not falter. He looked over at Lydith. "And who is this young lady travelling with you?" 

Before Lydith could answer, Aunt Daedra answered, "The child's name is Lydith. She's Lydia's daughter." 

At the mention of Lydith's mother, Gameth's expression changed to one of surprise and then intrigue. "Lydia was your mother?" he asked. "Then I am honoured to be in her daughter's presence. Sir Gameth IronEdge at your service, young lady." 

"You knew my mother?" Lydith asked in surprise. 

Gameth gave a slight nod. "We travelled together for a while, your mother, Daedra and me. Had a couple of adventures together, if I must say." 

"Most of which involved us getting you out of trouble, if I must recall," said Aunt Daedra dryly. "For a warrior, you seemed to attract more trouble than a troupe of cultists." 

"Ah, the folly of youth," reminisced Gameth. "That was then. Years have stolen much of my brashness. Especially after several years of patrolling the southern borders and skirmishing with the snake spawn." He shook his head at some memory. "Not anymore, however, thank the gods." 

"So you've been recalled to the city?" 

"Aye. And after a few days of staying in the Warrior's Guild, I felt the urge to travel again and thought I'd head south to visit the forest trading post towns and here I am." 

Aunt Daedra narrowed her eyes. "What a coincidence then," she said in an unconvinced tone. 

Gameth gave out a loud laugh. "A suspicious woman as always, Daedra." He turned to Lydith. "For your information, despite the resentment Daedra here seems to have for me, your mother and I got along very well back in those days." 

"A bit too well, if I wasn't there," cut-in Aunt Daedra sharply. 

Gameth coughed and looked slightly embarrassed. "Here now, Daedra - the child doesn't need to know about all that." 

Lydith was going to prompt the warrior with a question about her mother when a movement at the Inn's entrance caught her eye. The scarred man had returned, with several other men. The group occupied an empty table at the other end of the taproom and glared malevolently at them. "Aunt Daedra," said Lydith while prompting her to look. 

Aunt Daedra spotted the group. "It looks like you're losing your edge, Sir IronEdge. Our unhappy acquaintance is back, with some of his friends." 

Gameth turned and spied the group of men. He grunted and then turned back. "I suppose it would be best not to stay over this town and invite more trouble," conceded the warrior. "Come, I know a good, safe place to camp in the forest. Definitely more hospitable than this sewer hole."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The clearing Gameth brought them to was definitely more hospitable than the Hellbear's Paw in Deepen Dell. A fresh-water spring gurgled amidst a small enclosure of trees which partly shaded the sky. The three broke out their bedrolls and settled down for dinner as the day slowly faded into dusk. Aunt Daedra brought out the food that she and Lydith had been carrying - a slab of cured ham with loaves of bread and some fruits. 

Gameth surveyed their supplies and tut-tutted to himself. 

"What's wrong, Gameth?" asked Aunt Daedra as she handed Lydith an apple. "Expected to see some special delicacies from two travelling women?" 

"What? No, no - just wondering if you two wanted to share some of my food." 

"We're perfectly happy with our own food, thank you very much," replied Aunt Daedra as she turned her attention to slicing up the slab of ham. 

Lydith thought she saw a sly twinkle in the warrior's eye as he opened his backpack and brought out more bread and biscuits along with a large package tied with a string. 

"What's that?" asked Lydith as she bit into her apple. 

Gameth grinned and started to open the package. "This? Oh, it's just something that I've been saving up for a special occasion and I guess this marks such an occasion." He opened the package and took out the most fabulous cheese cake Lydith had ever seen. Aunt Daedra stopped mid-slice, her eyes on the cake as well. 

"Cost me quite a bit, but I thought it was worth the money," continued the warrior as he sliced a piece of the cake. "Made exclusively by the elven bakers of Fervus Street. Of course, if your Aunt Daedra insists on sticking to your rations, then I guess I'll have to eat it all by myself." Gameth innocently bit into his slice of cheese cake. 

"You are an evil man, Gameth," said Aunt Daedra in a low and dangerous voice. Her eyes did not shift from the cheese cake beside the warrior. 

"I come from an evil city," admitted Gameth as he took another bite. 

"I will not beg for a measly piece of cake from an old, miserable lout like you," stated the priestess defiantly. 

"Suit yourself," said Gameth. He finished his slice of cheese cake and sighed in contentment. "I'd blame the Fervus Street bakers if I were you. Damn elves make the cheese so smooth you can't hardly appreciate the walnut biscuit base." 

Lydith watched in amusement as Aunt Daedra shut her eyes and pursed her lips firmly. After a moment, she opened them and looked at Lydith. "Pass me the cake, Lydith," she finally said in a tone that commanded no mirth. "And hit that man if he tries to stop you." 

Lydith obediently took the cake and passed it over to her aunt as Gameth stretched himself and lay back with victorious grin on his face. 

The next few days passed in a repetitive routine. They walked along the roads during the day and camped in the forest at night. Gameth seemed to know almost every clearing in the area, despite his comments about not having been around the area for several years. 

Finally, on the third night, Aunt Daedra told Lydith that they would reach Necroselleum by the next day. Gameth had chosen to set up camp in a small clearing hidden from the road. After a well-cooked dinner, the priestess and girl settled down in their bedrolls. 

Lydith found herself unable to sleep. The thoughts of finally seeing the fabled city of Krypta, and that she was going to be initiated into the Convent of Krypta, played in her mind. She turned in her bedroll and spotted the warrior sitting nearby. Gameth had volunteered to take the first watch and sat on a log facing out towards the forest. Lydith got out of her bedrolls and walked towards him. Although she hardly made any noise, the warrior turned slightly at her approach. "What are you doing up, Lydith?" asked Gameth in a friendly but low voice. 

"I couldn't sleep," said Lydith as she sat next to the warrior. 

Gameth shifted over to make more room for her. "Then you can keep me company for a while." 

They both sat next to each other on the log, staring into the shadows of the surrounding trees. "Tell me about my mother," asked Lydith suddenly. 

Gameth glanced briefly at the girl. "What do you want to know, Lydith? Aunt Daedra or your father would have told you a lot about her by now." 

"Yes," Lydith affirmed. "But I'd still like to hear about her from other people who knew her when she was younger. Like you." 

Gameth stretched as he thought back. "Ah, well. Your mother was a rare one. She and your Aunt Daedra were closer than sisters. I found her to be the quiet and careful one, not at all like your Aunt Daedra who was a bit more feisty." The warrior grinned at that reference to Aunt Daedra. "Oh yes, and they were both quite inseparable. I'd imagine that Lydia's passing must have caused a great deal more grief to her than she'd shown." 

"How was my mother as a priestess?" queried Lydith. 

The aged warrior paused in thought. "As a priestess, I must say that your mother was very much different from the others. Normally, I can't stand priestesses. They'd come out of their Temple with a string of undead following them, ordering them around to do their slightest whim. I suspect it's a game to them, who can control the most undead at any time. However, your mother wasn't like that at all. For one, she never had any undead following her around. Said that the undead would prefer to remain dead. Other priestesses sometimes mocked her beliefs but surprisingly, they'd keep out of her way. Guess they were careful because of your mother's ability to raise impressive numbers of undead." 

"But I thought you said she didn't raise any undead." 

"No, I said that she didn't have any following her around - but she could raise them. And by Krypta, could she do so. Your Aunt Daedra can do her fair share of raising, but your mother had a talent that I'd never seen before. I remember one time when we went to investigate the lack of caravans coming in from the east and we came across a minatour's stronghold. We were attacked before we could get away and your mother raised so many undead that they were crawling all over the stronghold like ants. And her undead weren't stupid either - I saw several co-ordinate themselves into battalions like veteran soldiers and charge at a group of minatours." 

Gameth's eyes gleamed at the memory. "After the battle, it took us two full days to bury them. Another one of your mother's strange habits, she dispelled the undead as soon as she could and insisted that every one of them got a decent burial." The aged warrior grinned as he stared out into the trees. "I can still remember the looks on the guildmasters' faces when we returned from that adventure. Couldn't believe that a minatour's stronghold could have been taken out by a mere threesome. And the priestesses wrote off my account of the matter as a delusion caused by beserking." 

"Which is also probably responsible what little brains you have left," came Aunt Daedra's voice from behind them. The warrior looked back at Aunt Daedra who now stood behind them. "Good evening, my dear Daedra," said Gameth with seeming charm. "The girl couldn't sleep so we're having a small chat. I thought recounting a few war-stories would make her drop off straight away." 

Aunt Daedra pursed her lips. "How very considerate of you, Gameth." She turned to Lydith. "Come, child. You'd better get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, we'll reach Necroselleum and it will be a long day initiating you into the Convent." Lydith nodded obediently and got up to return to her bedroll. 

"And Gameth," said Aunt Daedra to the warrior. "I do not appreciate being referred to as 'feisty'." 

Gameth winced as the priestess and girl returned to their bed-rolls. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The shadows of the nearby trees grew longer as dusk settled over the small woodcutters' village. Tomas hefted his axe over his shoulder with one hand while his other hand pulled a rope secured around a small log which he dragged over the ground towards his house. Grunting as he strained to pull the log, he made his way to the side of the house where the rest of the wood was stored. After depositing it next to a neatly stacked row of firewood, he untied the rope, coiled and hung it on a nail on the side wall. 

Tomas casually gripped his axe in one hand and walked to the front porch of the house. He stepped in front of the door and bent down to push a heavy block of stone away from the foot of the door which was normally wedged there to hinder thieving pests from breaking in. Last summer, a family of weasels had broken in and helped themselves to the larder. After he and Lydith had chased the lot off, Tomas swore that he would skin the next weasel, squirrel or any other woodland creature that came close to the house and nail it's hide on the door as a gruesome warning to other hungry unwanted guests. So far, he had not managed to fulfill this sacred pledge. 

_That's funny_, he thought. The stone was already pushed away to one side. Tomas straightened up and scratched his head. _Must be getting old._ He pulled the door open and stepped into the house. The interior of the house was dark, the fading sunlight had long left the rooms. 

A noise clattered from the kitchen. _Damned weasels_, thought Tomas as he strode towards the sound. Suddenly, a blow landed on the back of his neck. Tomas dropped his axe and fell face forward on the floor. 

"Good one, Krut," came a voice from the kitchen. 

"Ach, this was a tough one. I think he almost dented the hilt of my dagger." 

Tomas lay on the floor groaning. The back of his head flared with pain, he had almost lost consciousness but he adamantly held on to the waking world. Voices spoken in a twanging accent sounded above him. For some reason, Tomas thought they sounded familiar. 

"Who's this, then? Definitely not the girl." 

"Maybe her father or her keeper. Let me take a look at him." A shadow passed over Tomas's face. "Ye gods! It's Tomas the Taker!" 

"Tomas the wh-.. you mean _the_ Tomas the Taker!?" 

"Stop gaping like an idiot, man; he's still awake! Hit him again!" 

A sharp kick to side of Tomas's head re-introduced him to the world of pain and darkness more effectively.


	4. Chapter 4

Old Bread-and-Butter was a dog that knew when to avoid trouble. Somewhere along the line of canines between the mongrel and it's wolf ancestors, this instinct had permeated itself as a crucial survival trait particularly when dealing with humans. 

This is chiefly the reason why the dog now slunk along the road outside the Windy Wail Inn, having exited via the half-open front door. Some rough humans had come in and were creating havoc in the Inn and the old dog thought it would be wiser to spend the night outside the establishment. After stretching itself thoroughly, Old Bread decided to head to the stables where it was probably quieter and less dangerous when the tops of a few hooded figures appeared over the hill up the Kings Highway. Old Bread observed these newcomers carefully, and then caught a whiff of their scent. The dog then rapidly ran to the stables as if it was chased by a horde of demonic cats. 

"THIS ALE TASTES LIKE MONTH-OLD TROLL PISS!" 

Another mug smashed against the back wall of the bar as Darren cringed in fright. The barbarian, dressed in animal hides with a brown fur-cloak which he boasted was Hellbear's hide, sat down again at his table. Two other younger barbarians, also clad in furs, laughed raucously and banged the table as they drained their mugs of ale as if it were only water. 

"That's the third mug you've thrown away, Thargan," slurred one of the barbarians. 

Thargan snorted. "I've had stump-water that tasted better, Krangar!" He turned towards the bar. "HOI, YOU! GET ME ANOTHER MUG! AND THIS TIME MAKE SURE IT'S ALE OR I'LL MAKE SURE THE MUG SMASHES AGAINST YOUR WORTHLESS SKULL!" 

Darren nodded fearfully and, with a shaky hand, proceeded to draw another mug of ale from his rapidly depleting barrel. Thankfully, nights like these were not often; the barbarians from the nearby hills rarely came down the Kings Highway to frequent the inns. Normally, they would travel to the elven cities to whet their appetites using whatever coin they had mysteriously come to possess. However, every few years or so, a group of them would take it into their heads pay a visit to the inns and many an inn-keeper along the Highway cringed at the memories of these social calls. 

The door of the inn suddenly swung fully open and Darren prayed that whoever it was, they had better sense than to enter an inn being internally wrecked by a bunch of barbarians. Three hooded and cloaked figures entered the inn followed by a woman dressed in a red robe. Darren groaned inwardly, it was a priestess. Outside, Darren could make out another two priestesses accompanied by a few more hooded figures. The barbarians immediately reached for their weapons. 

"Inn-keeper," called the priestess, ignoring the barbarians. "I require some information from you." 

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE, YOU CORPSE-LOVING WITCH!?" bellowed Thargan as he and his comrades stood up, their clubs and axes glinting wickedly in the light. 

The priestess regarded the barbarians as one might regard an insect. "I have not asked anything from you, filthy one. And I prefer to be referred to as Sister ShadowLife." 

"I CAN PREF.. REFER TO YOU ANY WAY I WANT!" shouted the barbarian. "THIS INN IS TAKEN SO GET OUT AND TAKE YOUR MAGGOT-RIDDEN CORPSES WITH YOU!" 

It was only then when Darren noticed that the hooded and cloaked figures seemed unnaturally still. He shuddered when he finally saw the bony arms and skeletal hands half-hidden under the cloaks. In the shade of one hood, Darren could almost make out a vacant-eyed skull. 

Amazingly, Sister ShadowLife only sniffed in disdain and turned back to Darren. "As I was saying, inn-keeper, I have a few questions for you." 

"You're asking for it, witch," growled the barbarian named Krangar as he advanced towards her. Immediately, one of the skeletons moved in front of him. Cursing in the name of Krolm, the barbarian swung his axe, only to be parried awkwardly by the skeleton's scimitar. 

What followed was only partially observed by Darren as he hid under his counter and peered out through the small cracks between the planks. The barbarians attacked with a frenzy while the skeletons slashed unmercifully with their dreadful scimitars. Sister Shadowlife chanted a continuos stream of Kryptian verses as she threw balls of life-draining Kryptian magic at her attackers. Most had no effect on Thargan, the legendary magic resistance of barbarians ringing true, but the other two younger barbarians were being steadily drained. And with each successful theft of life-force, the skeletons grew stronger and rebuilt themselves even as pieces of them were hacked off. 

Darren closed his eyes, unable to watch. _Krriing! Tchiang!_ A surging sound of Kryptian magic. "YYAARGGH!" The counter he was hiding under shuddered as a heavy body was flung unto it. Whether it was a skeleton or one of the barbarians, he was not sure. 

Finally, the noise subsided and Darren opened his eyes. _Perhaps they've all killed each other_, he thought hopefully as he got on his knees and peered out over the counter and surveyed the scene. Bones littered the ground along with broken tables and chairs. A badly beaten Thargan struggled weakly, pinned down by three skeletons. Of the other two barbarians, Darren thought he saw no sign until he noticed that two of the skeletons holding the barbarian were wearing furs. He gulped when he saw the priestess notice him. 

"Hold him," said Sister ShadowLife absently as she made her way to the bar where Darren was, stepping over the wreckage and spilt ale on the floor. "As I was saying," continued the priestess as if nothing of consequence had just happened, "We have a few questions, if you don't mind." 

"Any.. anything," stuttered the wide-eyed bar-tender. 

"Have you seen a warrior, cultist and a girl come by here recently? The warrior is rather old with gray in his hair and the cultist looks very much like any other of his irritating kind. The girl is about seventeen to eighteen years of age and is about this tall." She held up a hand. 

"You.. you mean the young priestess with no skeletons? A group of people just like that came through here two nights ago." 

A look of triumph glided over the priestesses face as she smiled. "Yes, I believe that must be the one. Except that the girl isn't a priestess." 

"She.. she isn't?", asked Darren in surprise. 

The priestess shook her head. "I'm afraid not. She is a runaway from our Convent of Krypta in Necroselleum." Sister ShadowLife paused in thought. "We had better continue on our way as soon as possible. They can travel far on the Kings Highway in two days." 

"They're not going on the Kings Highway," blurted Darren nervously. "I heard them say that they are going into the Forest of Dreams." 

Sister ShadowLife looked at Darren in surprise, as if she had now discovered that the bar-tender could think. "The Forest of Dreams? Then that is where we must go." The priestess placed a few gold coins on the bar-counter. "For your troubles." 

"Come," she intoned to the three skeletons holding the barbarian as she turned to leave. The undead beings unceremoniously dropped Thargan on the floor and started towards the priestess. 

Thargan looked up. "What of my brethren?" he demanded to the priestess while motioning his head to the two gaunt cadavers of his former comrades. The look he gave Sister ShadowLife was not without hate. 

A thin smile broke out over Sister ShadowLife's lips. "I always believe it is fair that when you break something that belongs to another, you should replace it." With that, the priestess gestured with one hand and the skeletons lurched forwards to follow their new mistress.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

During the Age of Gods, when all the gods walked the world of Ardania as Avatars, the Avatar of Krypta and her followers, built Necroselleum upon the foothills of the great Barrier Mountains. It is said that the shadows of the mountains cover the city throughout the day, and at night, pitch darkness invades the streets, rendering it almost impossible for anyone to get around without a lantern. 

Lydith could not stop staring at the huge city as it stretched out before the three travelers. They had been encountering clumps of cottages and farms in the morning and were now standing at the top of a small hill which gave them a grand view of the city. 

"Look there, child." Aunt Daedra pointed to a large, gray building with red roof tiles which dwarfed its surrounding buildings. "That is the Temple of Krypta - the largest in all of Ardania. The Convent of Krypta is next to it." 

Lydith spotted another large building in the city, almost the same size as the Temple of Krypta. "What building is that?", she asked as she pointed. 

"That's the Sovereign's Resident Palace," replied Gameth. 

"The Sovereign lives here?" 

"No, the Sovereign stays in the palace only when he visits here. The palace was built over two hundred years ago during the reign of the Sovereign Solvemarin; he governed the city of Necroselleum before his ascendancy to the throne. The palace is now occupied by the current governor of the city." 

"I thought the priestesses govern the city," said Lydith with a puzzled frown. 

The aged warrior shook his head. "The city is officially run by the governor who is appointed by the Sovereign. Since the Age of Gods, no members of any guilds are allowed to rule a city, so the governors of every city supposedly pledge allegiance only to the Sovereign." Gameth grinned. "However, as you have pointed out, most people know who makes the real decisions in Necroselleum. Let's just say that the priestesses have a very strong influence here." 

"Not all priestesses, Gameth," said Aunt Daedra. "If I had any influence here, the first thing I'll do is to tear down the Rogue's Guild. I don't know what the governor or powers-in-charge see in them." 

"Ahh, my dear Daedra. You have to understand that there are always things that need to be done which you wouldn't like to be noticeably associated with," said Gameth sagely as they approached the city. "That's what rogues and thieves are for. But really, they're not all a bad lot - maybe just monetarily-inclined." 

Aunt Daedra only sniffed in reply. 

Despite the tales Lydith had heard about the city of Necroselleum being a priestess's city crawling with undead and other unholy creatures terrorizing the local population, the city showed no signs of supernatural activity, much to her slight disappointment. Busy merchants and travelers bustled along the streets among farmers and peasants delivering goods or heading off to some errand. Still, it was the first city she had ever been to and she found herself staring everywhere, trying to take in everything at once. 

"A lot of gold must have been spent building this city," she said to Gameth as they made their way through the thronged streets. A ringing noise of steel penetrated the background chatter as they passed a large blacksmith's forge. 

"Well, the governor should spend some more to build separate Guilds for warriors," grunted Gameth. "Especially after he permitted the Cult of Fervus to build one of their temples here." 

One of Aunt Daedra's eyebrow's arched. "Oh? And why is that?" 

Gameth grimaced. "Where you have Fervusian cultists, you get their Discords. And since we have only one Guild for warriors, those Discords have moved in with us. You try living under the same roof with those maniacs." 

"Discords?" murmured Lydith with a puzzled frown. 

"Warriors of Discords," answered Aunt Daedra. "They're the warrior members of the Cult of Fervus who have undergone the Rite of Transformation which supposedly makes them fearless and gives them great strength. However, it is widely rumored that the rite also makes them go slightly insane." 

"_Slightly!?_ You should have seen what one of them did to my last pair of boots! Now I can't leave anything leather lying around without it becoming a Discord's late night snack!" 

The trio proceeded down the streets as Gameth continued to complain to Aunt Daedra about his alarming Guildmates. Finally, they reached the front of the large, gray building Aunt Daedra had pointed out earlier from the hill. A massive, bronze double-door with carvings of Kryptian verses and Kryptian deities stood open. Some followers of Krypta, dressed in plain red robes but not priestesses, walked out of the Temple and proceeded down the street. Lydith could not see into the gloomy darkness inside. 

"I suppose this is it then," said Gameth as he too peered into the massive doorway. He turned to Lydith and Aunt Daedra. "I must say, I enjoyed traveling with you two very much. You've both made better companionship than I've had for a long time." 

The aged warrior reached out to take Lydith's hand but was pleasantly surprised when Lydith hugged him instead. "I'll miss you, Gameth. Thanks for accompanying us here." 

Gameth laughed, slightly embarrassed. "If you ever need me, leave word at the Warrior's Guild. They'll know how to get to me if I'm not there." He hugged her again and then turned to Aunt Daedra. A cautionary look from her made him smoothly retract his hug. "Are you going off again soon?" he asked instead. 

Aunt Daedra shrugged. "It depends. I will probably be here for quite some time." 

Gameth nodded. "Then I might see you again. Good luck, Lydith!" With that, the aged warrior walked back down the street and disappeared around a corner. 

Aunt Daedra looked back at Lydith. "Follow me closely, child - it's easy to get lost in here," she said as she entered the doorway. Lydith took one deep breath and entered the Temple of Goddess of Death.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_Tomas the Taker._

Now that was a name Tomas had not heard in a long time. As far as he knew, the man who once wore that name was now dead, buried deep into a past life which Tomas had almost started to forget. 

As his consciousness slowly crept back, Tomas kept himself still while accessing his situation. The back of his head throbbed like crazy and the hard ground it now lay upon was not helping. His hands and feet were tied with what felt like rope. It was night and he could hear a fire crackling in the background. Voices sounded near to him. 

"How are you so sure that it's really him, Sylas?" That voice was wavering and unsure, as if the owner was constantly indecisive. 

"I've seen him before and I never forget a face, Krut. That's Tomas the Taker - and I'd bet every gold piece I have on it." Sylas's voice suggested a man with many experiences which have given him a permanent tone of cynicism. 

"Well, I've only heard of him. They say that he can walk through walls and he's killed more men than all the Shadows combined." 

Sylas snorted. "Ach, you believe everything that's told to you, you balding midget! The Guildmaster's Shadows, although few, are all extremely efficient and each have a list with more names in it than the Daurosian Gospels. But it is true that he's pulled off some of the most difficult assignments compared to the other Shadows." 

A brief silence. The fire spluttered - one of them must have fed another stick into it. 

"So what are we going to do now, Sylas?" 

"We bring him back to Centuria. The Guildmaster's gonna want to see him and catch up with him with questions like how's he been doing, what's he been up to, where has he been for over ten years after disappearing mid-assignment - that sort of thing." Sylas chuckled evilly. "After that, I don't think things will get too pleasant." 

_Yes, definitely someone with experience._ Tomas had met men like Sylas before, they were the kind that survived in the guild via selective loyalty - usually to themselves. 

"Besides," continued Sylas. "At least this will keep the Guildmaster happy instead of returning empty-handed without the girl." 

_The girl. Lydith._ Tomas thought to himself. _What did they want with Lydith?_

The sound of someone getting up. "Watch him in case he wakes up," came Sylas's voice. "I'm going to take a leak." 

_That leaves the balding midget with me,_ thought Tomas. Tomas peered through half-open eyelids and surveyed the area - he was lying on his side facing a fire. Krut, unsurprisingly a short man with a receding hairline, sat against a log near Tomas's feet with his side facing him. _Better now than never._ Tomas pursed his lips together and drew in a slight breath. 

A cough sounded from the other side of the fire. Krut started and reached for his dagger. "Sylas? Is that you?" 

For a moment, there was no sound apart from the fire. Then another cough sounded right next to Krut, making the man almost jump out of his skin. Krut drew out his dagger and turned his head towards the sound, away from Tomas. 

Tomas rolled on his back, drew his knees up to his chest and angled his feet towards the man's head and called, "Hey, you!" A wide-eyed Krut turned his head back, just in time to see the soles of Tomas's feet smash into his face. The short man dropped his dagger and fell backwards, knocking his head against the log. Tomas scrambled towards the fallen dagger and rolled unto his back so that his hands could take it. He rapidly worked the sharp blade on the rope tying his hands, just as Krut opened his eyes in a daze and stared at him before finally registering what had just happened. 

"SYLAS!", he shrieked. "HE's AWAKE!! HE'S-" 

Tomas's hands came free and he flung the dagger at the panic-stricken man. The dagger spun in the air and landed with a hefty _thwack!_ into the log just an inch from the man's head. Krut's eyes glazed over as he fainted. 

Tomas reached down and quickly untied the rope secured around his feet. He got up and groaned slightly at the aches all over his body. _I'm getting too old for this,_ he thought as he sped away from the camp-site. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was late into the night by the time Tomas stopped running. Although it was dark, Tomas had figured out roughly where he was - over ten years spent wood-cutting in this part of the forest had etched it firmly into his mind. 

He stopped against a large tree and sucked in his breath noisily. It had been years since he last threw his voice like that and he was not even sure whether it would work. He gathered his thoughts together. 

The Rogue's Guild of Centuria wanted Lydith. Why they wanted her remained a mystery, but Tomas knew that he had to find out. When he had gotten his breath back, he made his way through the forest again. After some time, he reached a large rock, half-covered with moss. 

_This must be the place._ Tomas got down to his knees and started to dig. An hour passed before he finally brought an old, dirt-stained chest to the surface. He undid a leather throng serving as it's latch and carefully opened the lid of the chest. Probing his fingers along the inner edge of the lid, he located the trigger of a concealed dart trap and disabled it. He lifted the lid of the chest fully open and stared at the contents. A black leather suit with an orange-rimmed hood lay neatly folded at the bottom of the chest. Resting on it were a few small pouches, a long dagger in it's sheath, a medium-sized quiver and a crossbow. 

Tomas lifted the crossbow out of the chest. It was slender and had a dark varnish rendered it almost black in the moonlight. He checked the loading mechanism, saw that it was still in working order and smiled in satisfaction. His fingers brushed against some engravings on the crossbow's handle - it was too dark to make out, but he knew that the letters spelt the word 'Taker'. 

Priestesses were not the only ones who could bring someone back from the dead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Wait here, child. I will speak to Mother Darkfriend alone before calling for you." 

Aunt Daedra left Lydith in the dusky library and disappeared down a hallway. Upon entering the Temple to Krypta, Aunt Daedra had asked around Mother Darkfriend, the Convent Mother of Krypta, and they had been directed to the library where Mother Darkfriend's study was located. 

From what Lydith had seen, much of the interior of the Temple was defined by the somber grayish-yellow stone that was visible from outside the building, along with dark red carpets and drapes. The Sanctuary, where they had first entered, was a huge hall, it's ceiling supported by six large pillars. High up near the ceiling were tall narrow windows which let in only minimal light. A thick, dark red carpet was spread on the floor, along with matching small cushions which Lydith presumed were kneeling cushions. An ominous, pale altar stood on an upraised portion of the floor at the end of the Sanctuary. 

Many passageways led from the Sanctuary; the one they took brought them to a small gallery which itself eventually led to the Temple's library. The library looked under-maintained - books were left carelessly open on wide tables while many of the bookshelves had gaps which suggested missing volumes. Lydith stood next to a study table which had books piled up higher than herself. 

"Hi, my name's Karyn. What's yours?" came a sudden whisper. 

Lydith almost jumped out of her skin. She turned to the study table and saw a young girl in an Initiate's robe, half-hidden behind the pile of books. The girl was slightly thin, had shoulder-length hair and a timid but friendly look. A huge volume was open in front of her. Lydith managed a polite smile as she answered back, "My name is Lydith. Didn't see you there - you startled me when you said hi." 

"Sorry about that," replied the girl sincerely. "After some time here, you tend to blend into the background." 

"Oh, that's alright. I've been feeling rather jumpy ever since I got here anyway." Lydith suddenly felt that she needed a friend and Karyn seemed like a nice person. She glanced over at the huge open volume in front of the initiate. "What's that you're reading?" 

"What, this? It's one of the Archives of the Order of Krypta, where they record down the names of all ordained priestesses of Krypta. I'm trying to find the correct name of a priestess which I'm sure is wrong in the Kryptian Histories although Sister Lifesteal, our history tutor, insists that it's correct even though.." 

A noise from the hallway made the initiate retreat back behind her barricade of books. Aunt Daedra appeared. "Come, child. Mother Darkfriend will see you now. Remember to greet her when you see her." 

Lydith looked back at Karyn who was industriously poring over her volume. She then obediently followed Aunt Daedra down the hallway, through a half-open oak door and saw her first undead. 

It was about six-feet tall and was armored in a grayish-black plate mail with studded leather covering the parts which the armor did not. A grated-face helm protected a skull which had eye-sockets that glowed bright red. The undead's gauntleted hands rested upon the pommel of a huge broadsword pointed downwards, it's tip resting on the cold floor. 

The undead turned it's head to face Lydith who gave a small shriek and moved behind Aunt Daedra. Aunt Daedra just glared at the undead and walked past it, guiding a terrified Lydith along. 

A dry voice sounded from the other end of the study. "You have nothing to fear from Karn, child. He is completely obedient to me and will only harm those who seek to harm me." 

Lydith turned to face the speaker. She saw a broad woman dressed as a priestess, just slightly shorter than Aunt Daedra. The woman could have passed for a plump and friendly innkeeper's wife, except for the hard set of her eyes and mouth that commanded discipline. 

A slight, expectant movement from Aunt Daedra's head brought Lydith's senses back in a flash. "Krypta's blessings, Mother Darkfriend," she half-blurted hurriedly. 

The Convent Mother of Krypta approached the two and stared intensively at Lydith. "Have you not seen an undead before, child?" 

"N.. no, Mother Darkfriend." 

"Then you are more fortunate than many to have seen Karn. He is my Lazari." 

"What's a.. Lazari?" asked Lydith without thinking. She then realised her imprudence and bowed her head submissively. 

Mother Darkfriend arched an eyebrow at the girl. "I suppose untamed curiosity should be expected from an initiate. A Lazari is better known to common fearful folk as a Death Knight. One is only bestowed by Krypta to the most loyal of her servants." Mother Darkfriend gestured at the motionless skeletal being. "Karn here was given to me long ago, as a reward for my obedience to the dread goddess." 

Lydith nodded, not knowing what to say. 

Mother Darkfriend continued her piercing inspection of Lydith. "Your Aunt Daedra has spoken well about you. We shall see how right she is after a few months." She paused for a moment. "What do you remember of your mother?" 

"Not very much, Mother Darkfriend," replied Lydith truthfully. "I was very little when she left us." 

The Convent Mother of Krypta nodded. "Your mother was a fine asset to the Order of Krypta. Her early admission to the realms of Krypta is envied by many, but her presence is still missed by us all." The Convent Mother of Krypta stared hard at Lydith. "I expect nothing more from you than to try to match up to her standards." 

"Yes, Mother Darkfriend." 

Mother Darkfriend then turned away and walked back to her desk. "You may go, child. Your Aunt Daedra will show you to the Initiate's Hall where you will be outfitted for your Initiate's robe. Someone there will instruct you of your daily duties." With that, she waved a hand and dismissed them. 

"Come, child," said Aunt Daedra as she led her from the study. A short way back up the hallway, Aunt Daedra noticed Lydith's drab expression and gave a small laugh. "You look like you have just swallowed a toad! Smile, child - becoming a priestess does not mean you have to frown all the time." 

Lydith smiled and managed a small laugh. However, she could not help but feel that in Mother Darkfriend's study, the undead Lazari Karn was staring at her throughout the entire time. 


	5. Chapter 5

A blanket of ants covered the ranger's remains. Yellow Sky estimated that the ranger must have met his unfortunate end less than a week ago. 

"What killed him?" Lydith asked. She prodded the ranger's dilapidated leather armour with her staff, causing an sudden wave of activity as ants and various insects scurried away. 

The cultist grunted. "Hard to tell. Dead things decay fast in this forest." 

"Spiders, most likely," Gameth picked up a badly abused leather pouch and pointed out several odd bite-marks on the surface. 

Yellow Sky scratched his chin. "Could be. But pouch could have been bitten long before the ranger got dead." 

"There is one way to be sure. Stand back." The priestess raised her hands and prepared to chant. 

Yellow Sky grimaced and took two steps back while Gameth frowned. "Is this necessary?" 

"If we know where the spiders are, then we can avoid their nests," came the reply from gritted teeth as Lydith concentrated. 

A red glow slowly spread over the corpse, sending more of the insects scurrying away. The corpse suddenly jerked and started to sit up. Half-decayed flesh fell off, hissing as the power of Krypta ate it away, causing a stomach-churning stench that had Yellow Sky and Gameth backing away hastily. Finally, the skeletal remains of the ranger stood before the priestess, still clad in its leather armour.  
  
_What is your name?_ Lydith queried in thought. 

_Brinneck TrailBlazer,_ came the reply. The skeleton turned its head slightly over one side, as if waiting for a response. 

_My name is Lydith,_ the priestess offered politely. _I brought you back from the realm of Krypta._ She was careful not to directly ask what caused the ranger's demise. 

But surprisingly, the skeleton seemed to understand why it raised. It lifted a skeletal arm and pointed further into the forest. _Many spiders,_ the undead's voice echoed in her head. _A large colony ahead._

Lydith nodded. _We want to get around them. Is there any way?_

_A hidden trail. Behind those trees._

Lydith glanced over where the skeleton pointed and registered the copse of trees. _Thank you for your help._ She raised her hands and prepared to dispel her magic. _Goodbye, Brinneck TrailBlazer._

_Goodbye,_ the skeleton echoed. _Lydith._

The red glow of Kryptian magic faded and the skeleton crumpled to pieces on the ground. Lydith lowered her hands. "There's a hidden trail further on behind those trees. It will lead us around the spider colony ahead of us." 

"How nice it must be to be able to talk to the undead," mused Yellow Sky admiringly. "I didn't know priestesses could do that." 

"Not all of them," murmured Gameth distantly. He bent his head in thought. "Whose is it?" 

The question caught Lydith by surprise. "Whose is what?" 

"The hidden trail. Whose trail is it? If it's a hidden trail, who's responsible for hiding it?" 

Lydith kept quiet. She had not thought to ask. 

Gameth grunted. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The answer to Gameth's question came clear in time. The hidden trail was cleverly concealed between two thick rows of trees and brambles and was wide enough to accommodate up to five men to walking abreast. They had followed the trail and now came across a few dead and decaying mules along with their packs. There was no sign of their owners. After scouting around a bit, Yellow Sky checked the mule packs personally and then let Gameth survey them. 

"Elven mule packs," said Gameth pointing at the faded colours which once decorated the packs. 

"Found this in most of them," grinned Yellow Sky as he lifted a small half-rotten paper package. Inside were dried plants which gave out a fragrant smell. 

"Elven pipeweed," confirmed Gameth. "According to the Sovereign's law, caravans carrying pipeweed must travel on the designated royal highways and this certainly isn't one of them. This trail is probably being used by Elven smugglers." 

"When were these killed?" asked Lydith as she gestured at the mules' remains. 

Yellow Sky shrugged. "A few days ago maybe. Why? You can talk to dead mules too?" 

Lydith was about to give a sharp retort to that when a creaking sound filled the air. Gameth drew his sword just as a massive tree branch smashed into his chest, flinging him into the ground ten feet away. 

"Gameth!" Lydith rushed over to the groaning warrior, just as a massive being stepped unto the trail. The being was a huge tree with two large branches serving as it's arms. It walked on two short tree trunks and stared at them with evil eyes which were bored into the main trunk. 

Lydith looked at the horrific monster. She had only heard of tales of such creatures, fearfully named Daemonwoods, and from what she had heard, they were extremely difficult to destroy. The daemonwood took a menacing step towards them, just as another figure appeared on the trail. 

The second figure was smaller and undoubtedly female. Her green skin and immodesty over her unclothed state identified her as a dryad. "Take them both," the dyrad commanded as the daemonwood continued towards them. "And try not to break them." 

Both? Lydith looked around. There was no sign of Yellow Sky. The daemonwood stepped over them, blocking out the sky, and Lydith shut her eyes as the gnarly branches reached down towards them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not for the first time, Ryand vowed that he would retire by the end of the year. As Hallmaster of the gambling hall of Centuria, Ryand had seen enough of wealth, greed and desperation to fill several lifetimes. 

"I don't know what kind of a shady business you're running here! I want my money back now!" bellowed the dwarf in front of him. Several of the Hall's bouncers were standing behind him, some sporting bruises that were already starting to turn purple. 

"I'm truly sorry, sir, but the Hall does not refund tokens to clients who have played and lost them in a fair game." 

"The dealer was cheating! I saw him switch cards with my own eyes!" 

"That is a very serious accusation," replied Ryand in his business tone. "We strive to maintain a high level of honesty among our staff – one found doing what you have just mentioned can lose his job, incidentally along with the use of his hands." 

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU PEOPLE DO TO YOUR BLASTED STAFF! I WANT MY MONEY BACK AND-" 

"We apologise for your frustration and loss, sir. Perhaps a free drink will help calm you down." 

"ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR!? I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I DO TO PEOPLE WHO CALL ME-" 

Ryand quickly side-stepped as the raging dwarf charged at him. The dwarf's mailed fist swung into empty air, just as Ryand smashed a small iron truncheon to the back of the dwarf's neck. His eyes widened slightly when the dwarf did not fall down as expected. 

The dwarf looked up, eyes a little unfocussed. "I'll get you for tha-" Ryand brought the truncheon down again, and this time the dwarf fell heavily on the floor. Ryand breathed in slowly as his hand absently re-concealed the truncheon back into his wrist sleeve. 

"Throw him out back," said Ryand to the bouncers. "It's best not to worry the other customers." The bouncers nodded and proceeded to drag the heavy body of the unconscious dwarf out of his office. Ryand sat back down behind his desk and started to massage his wrist. It would probably ache for days, perhaps some of that soothing cream that the Agrelians sold at their Temple would help. Healers might be gentle and kind, he mused, but they certainly drove a hard bargain on their products. 

"Seems like you've done pretty well for yourself, Ryand." 

The truncheon slipped out into Ryand's hand within a split second as Ryand sprang up and looked around for the intruder. A dark figure stepped out of a corner of the office, Ryand could have sworn that he'd seen no one there earlier. His eyes widened in recognition of the figure. "Tomas? Tomas, is that you?" 

Tomas raised his hands to show that he was holding no weapons. "Yeah, it's me, Ryand. Been a while hasn't it? Nice work with the dwarf there." 

Ryand grinned as he lowered his truncheon. "All part of the trade, Tomas – you should know that." He started to massage his wrist once again. "I should have been able to take him out with one blow. That was a bit embarrassing." 

"Don't flog yourself over it. Some dwarves have thicker skulls than trolls." 

Ryand gave a short laugh as he kept his truncheon again with one flick of his wrist. "Good to see you again Tomas, I always knew that one day you'd turn up again. A lot of things have happened since the last time you were here." 

"I can imagine." Tomas sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Like your promotion to Hall Master. A fair jump for a fellow rogue in the Guild." 

Ryand produced two glasses and a bottle of wine from under his desk. "Yes, I have managed over the years," he said modestly. "The late Master Karrigan was very generous to me." 

An eyebrow raised over Tomas's eye. "The _late_ Master Karrigan?" 

"It seems you have been out of touch for quite some time, Tomas," said Ryand as he poured the both of them a glass of wine, "Guildmaster Karrigan left us for the realms of Krypta last year - may Krypta forever keep his dark, cynical soul in Her cold grasp." 

"Is that so," Tomas narrowed his eyes in thought. "So who's in charge now?" 

"A colleague of yours. One of the former Shadows - Malvon, remember him?" 

Tomas frowned. "Yes, I remember Malvon. And he probably remembers me very well since I gave him that scar along the side of his face." 

"You gave him that? Always wondered how he got that scar, should have known it might have been you." 

"It was an accident," replied Tomas dryly. "It should have gone around his throat." 

"Ah, an old rival," said Ryand as he sipped his wine. "And you are going to correct that now, I suppose?" 

"No, no. Nothing like that." Tomas leaned back. "What I'm interested in is why the Rogue's Guild wants my daughter." Tomas briefly explained the events on the night of his temporary capture. 

"Sylas and Krut, eh?" Ryand snorted. "A nastier pair you'll never meet – those two scrape at the very bottom of the barrel of self-respect. It's no surprise that Malvon sent them on such a task." 

"Any idea why they were sent?" 

Ryand thought for a moment. "A week or so ago, a group of strangers arrived in Centuria and sought audience with our esteemed Guildmaster Malvon. After a closed meeting, they left again, and it is rumored that Malvon has made some sort of agreement with them. Sylas and Krut must have been sent after that. These strangers might be behind Malvon's sudden interest in your daughter." 

Tomas sipped his wine thoughtfully. "I don't relish another meeting with Malvon – especially now that he knows that I'm still alive. These strangers – where did they go? If I can find them, perhaps I can find out their intentions." 

"A logical deduction," admitted Ryand. "But not necessary the safest. The strangers that spoke to Malvon were priestesses. If you're planning to go after them, I dare say that you will soon be flirting with death." 

Tomas smiled grimly as he lifted his glass to Ryand. "My kind of work." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One of the first things that Lydith learnt at the Convent was that Initiates were ranked the lowest of all who dwelled in the Temple of Krypta. Even the Temple servants were given better treatment and privileges; servants did the general cleaning and waited upon the wishes of the priestesses while Initiates were expected to do the many other menial tasks, most of which she soon found out consisted of dealing with large amounts of dirt and scrubbing. 

"I think I've scrubbed enough robes to last me several lifetimes," she complained wearily to Karyn as she drenched another crimson robe into the large tub in front of her. The Convent's laundry room was cramped due to the mountain of dirty robes piled up along one wall. A huge vat of boiling water and soap suds occupied the center of the room. 

Karyn smiled in reply as she stoked the flame under the steaming vat. "Don't think that this is bad – there's far more worse tasks that an Initiate can be assigned to." 

Lydith carefully wrung the robe she had been scrubbing and threw it into the vat. The wet outfit smacked ungracefully on the soapy mixture before sinking into the boiling depths. "Who would have thought that so many robes can get dirty within a day! How many robes do the priestesses each have!?" 

"One for every day of the week, I suppose." 

"Krypta spare us!" groaned Lydith at which Karyn laughed. 

Karyn, the initiate from the library, was the first friend Lydith made ever since entering into the service of Krypta. Karyn's parents were both librarians and had instilled the thirst for knowledge into the young girl during her early years. The girl found herself captivated by the enigmatic death magic wielded by the priestesses of Krypta. So, prompted by her insatiable curiosity, and the fact that the Temple of Krypta had a library of ancient Kryptian scrolls, she enrolled herself under the Convent of Krypta in Necroselleum and spent as much time as she could studying the Temple's collection of scrolls and tomes in it's dark library.  
  
Lydith wiped the sweat from her forehead and handed Karyn the brush. "Here – it's your turn to do the scrubbing. I think my arms are going to drop off." 

"Okay, but wait – let me get this off first." Karyn proceeded to remove a tiny gold ring she wore on her right index finger. 

"Oh, that's pretty," said Lydith admiringly. 

Karyn beamed as she showed her the ring. "It's a gift from my parents on my fifteenth birthday. I wear it all the time. Except when I'm doing something like scrubbing clothes – I don't want to accidentally scratch it." She kept the ring in her belt pouch. "How about you? Do you have any jewelry?" 

"Only this," Lydith bent her head and drew out the necklace which she kept under her robe. 

"That's very beautiful," said Karyn as she leaned forwards for a closer inspection. "It looks like a ruby all smoothened out although I've never seen a ruby glow like that before. But then again, I've never seen a lot of rubies either." The girl studied the jewel as it spun slowly on its gold chain. "That's strange.. I could have sworn that I've seen pictures of this jewel before." 

"Pictures?" said Lydith in surprise. "Where?" 

"In the library. I think they were pictures of bloodstones from centuries back. I only happened to see them because I was looking for references to ancient sacrificial artifacts which the priestesses don't use anymore, or at least I hope they don't because some of them really can turn your stomach inside out when you learn how they were used back in those days when-" 

"What's a bloodstone?" interrupted Lydith. 

"Oh, bloodstones? They are very rare. I only know what the section wrote about them. They're not really natural gems – they're created by some tedious method involving drops of the creator's blood over a long period of time." Her voice lowered to a conspirational whisper. "It's said that a bloodstone binds the creator of the bloodstone to the bearer. The ancient necromancer kings used to create them and bestow them to their generals to ensure that the generals don't betray them. After the Necrolyte Wars, when the last necromancer king was finally defeated, all his bloodstones were destroyed because it was feared that he could use them from beyond the grave." 

Lydith stared at her friend, trying to work out if she was pulling her leg. "Do you think it's possible that this is actually a-" 

"What are you two doing!?" screeched a voice from the next room. "At this rate you'll never finish by dinner time!" 

Both the girls immediately jumped to their tasks, Karyn scrubbing the robes for all she was worth while Lydith stoked the fire under the vat, making sure that it did not burn out before their task was done. However, her mind swam with thoughts of her necklace, bloodstones and necromancer kings reaching out with claw-like hands from their graves.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At first glance, one might think that no living plants grew in the gardens of the Temple of Krypta. Although much of the garden was defined by swirling shades of gray sand flowing around islands of rocks and walkways, there were some trees with bone-white trunks and dark leaves. Even though the Temple and its gardens were located in the midst of a large city, the gardens retained a silence that could only be appropriately regarded as 'deathly'. 

A scuffle of footsteps broke the quietness as Aunt Daedra walked into the heart of the garden. As she went deeper, she heard another sound – the sound of something metallic scrapping the soil. Mother Darkfriend came into view – she was wearing a dirty apron over her robes and was on her knees using a small hand-spade to clear out some soil at the foot of one of those strange trees. She looked almost like a portly farmer's wife rooting about in the vegetable patch. Not far away from her stood her death knight Karn, it's glowing red eyes watching Aunt Daedra as she approached. 

"Krypta's blessings, Mother Darkfriend," intoned Aunt Daedra respectfully as she got closer. 

The Convent Mother of Krypta looked up from her task. "Ah, Daedra. You respond quickly to a summons." 

"I was not doing anything of great importance," replied Aunt Daedra. "What prompts you to summon me?" 

"A message came from our sources in Centuria today," said Mother Darkfriend. "It appears that the Inner Sect have made another appearance – this time to the Guildmaster of the Rogues in Centuria." 

Aunt Daedra frowned. "It has been a while since they last appeared. And they seem selective with the people they meet. Is the Guildmaster working with them?" 

"According to our sources, yes, for the time being. At least as long as he finds it profitable to deal with them." The Convent Mother of Krypta's eyes hardened as she stood up. "We must find out who these sisters are and what are their intentions. A clique like the Inner Sect cannot be allowed to continue. You must go and try to pick up their trail from Centuria." 

"I will leave at once," said Aunt Daedra. "I must say that it puzzles me why would Krypta allow a group of renegade priestesses like the Inner Sect to exist." 

"Krypta works in strange ways, dear sister," said Mother Darkfriend. "Be wary, for I suspect that the Inner Sect has got eyes and ears even here in the Temple. You may go." The Convent Mother of Krypta turned back to her digging as Aunt Daedra left the garden.


	6. Chapter 6

A sudden jolt woke Gameth from his troubled rest. "Wh- where am I?" he slurred in a half-conscious state. 

"Gameth? Gameth! You're awake!" A blurred image appeared over the warrior which resolved into the concerned face of Lydith. "Thank Krypta you're alive!" 

"Ah, girl - Krypta would want me more dead than alive," quipped Gameth as he lifted his head. The evening sky loomed overhead but all around them were walls of thorny vines and scarred trees. "Where are we?" 

Lydith looked around. "We were captured by the Daemonwood which seems to listen to commands from a dryad. She had it put us into this prison. I can't break out of this place, even with your dagger. There's no opening and the vines are too tough." 

The warrior nodded and closed his eyes. "Don't worry, girl – I'll chop our way out of here as soon as I can get up." 

A low, female voice called out. "A feat which you will find quite impossible, my lowly prisoners. These walls are thick enough to bear the damage from your sword. There is no way through unless you have the magic of the woodlands, like me and my sisters." 

The dryad stepped through the wall of vines and wood, as if it were immaterial. About a dozen more dryads appeared the same way as the first, stepping through the wall with no hinderance at all. "In any case, you will eventually be taken from here soon enough." 

"Why have you imprisoned us?" demanded Lydith as she turned to face the woodland creature. "We were merely passing through this part of the forest. Krypta will not be pleased of how you have treated one of Her priestesses. I assure you that even dryads like you will meet with Her when you pass from this world." 

The dyrad laughed, low and evil. "A brave statement, girl. But you are hardly a priestess. I have seen what little power you have – you can barely sustain one miserable skeleton for more than a few minutes! I think Krypta would be more pleased if I dispatched a priestess-imposter to Her instead!" 

The dryad smiled over the fuming girl and aged warrior. "As for why you're both here - the current Queen of the Dryads is at great age and will pass from us soon. But not before she Coronates one of us to be her successor. Her successor must be one of cunning and power." The dryad drew her head up proudly. "I already control the daemonwoods. And after I show her that I can kill elves and capture humans, she will look upon me with great favour." 

"And after this Coronation, we'll be set free?" asked Lydith, more out of cynicism that hope. 

The dryad detected her tone and laughed. "Even you know the outcome. As the new Queen of the Dryads, my first order would be one of diplomacy – with neighbouring the spider colony. They would greatly appreciate the gift of humans I will send to them." 

"Oh no, they won't," called out a familiar voice from above. "Because the big spiders are going to attack and eat you all instead!" Yellow Sky dropped down next to Lydith from the tops of the trees. 

Surprise was quickly replaced by anger on the dryad's face. "Who are you?" she demanded. 

"I am the King of the Spiders!" declared the cultist. 

"There is no King of the Spiders," sneered the dryad. "The spiders have a queen." 

"Oh." said the cultist thoughtfully. He brightened up. "Then I am the Queen of the Spiders!" 

Lydith could hear Gameth groan. 

"Take him," glowered the dryad to her fellow dryads. "And surround him so that he won't disappear from us with his camouflaging tricks." The dryads spread out and around the threesome. 

"What are you doing?" hissed Lydith to the little cultist next to her. The cultist looked around confidently. "If you were smart dryads," he said to the dryads, "you wouldn't waste time like this." 

"What are you gibbering about, little man?" said the dryad as the circle of dryads closed in. 

"Oh, just that the big spiders are pretty angry back at their colony," said Yellow Sky. "Especially after I paid them a little visit and killed their.. ah queen." The cultist puffed out his chest. "That's why I demand to be paid the full respect due to Yellow Sky as the new Queen of the Big Spiders." 

The dryads froze. "You _what_?" breathed out the lead dryad. "Where are the spiders now?" 

Yellow Sky shrugged. "Last time me checked, a whole bunch of big spiders were chasing me here." 

The dryad gaped for a moment and then suspicion took control. "He's lying. He's just trying to-" 

And then the spider webs started to fall. Panic and confusion broke out as several of the screaming dryads were caught in the sticky strands. The lead dryad tried to call for order, but was knocked over when the wall behind her burst open to reveal giant arachnid legs and gnashing mannibles. The dreadful, ear-piercing squeal of giant spiders filled the air. 

"Come on!" hooted Yellow Sky as he yanked Gameth up and pulled Lydith along. A dryad grabbed Lydith's arm in an attempt to stop the girl but yelped in pain as the dryad's slender hand was suddenly withered into an ugly claw. "Priestess-imposter," muttered Lydith under her breath as the crimson power of Krypta faded from her eyes. 

Yellow Sky swiftly led them through a broken hole in the vine wall and out into the evening-light forest, rapidly leaving the chaos and commotion of the dryads and spiders behind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was some time before he stopped and let them rest. 

Gameth was the first to speak. "You crazy cultist imbecile!" he bellowed at the grinning cultist. "That thing about killing the Spider Queen better be a joke, or else we'll all be in big trouble. Those spiders will tear the forest apart looking for us!" 

Yellow Sky laughed. "You mean these spiders?" Four giant spiders dropped down from the surrounding trees and skittered towards them. 

Gameth cursed as his sword sang out of its scabbard and was about to advance when Lydith held his arm. "Wait, Gameth. I think these spiders are.. charmed." 

The cultist laughed with glee. "Lydith is smarter than Gameth, it seems! Yellow Sky pulled a good trick, yes? Yellow Sky and his four spider friends!" The spiders clustered around the little man. 

Gameth lowered his sword. "You charmed four spiders and got the dryads to believe that the whole colony was attacking them?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're crazier than I thought." 

The cultist giggled. "Yellow Sky named them too. Want to hear?" The cultist tapped each of the spiders on the head as he called them. "Cherry, Berry, Merry and Sir Gameth Chompalot." The cultist tickled the last spider fondly. "He wanted a warrior's name." 

Gameth groaned as he shook his head. "I don't know what's worse – being tormented by vicious dryads or having a spider named after you by a raving cultist." 

The cultist threw his head back and laughed as the spiders squealed along in their nerve-wracking calls.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Aunt Daedra's departure from the Temple of Krypta was sudden and unexpected, but the priestess did not leave the place without seeing Lydith first. "Take care, child," she had told Lydith. "The convent sisters tell me that you are doing well here and that is very good. I might be gone for some time but I'll be back before you know it." 

"Pay a visit to father and bring me back some news from him," pleaded Lydith. "Tell him I miss him very much and give him my love." 

"Of course, child," said Aunt Daedra warmly as she hugged the girl. 

Two months passed quickly in the Convent as Lydith found herself flowing into the routine of the rigid Convent schedule. The days started early with a pre-dawn devotional to Krypta along with the rest of the Initiates and the senior Acolytes. After an almost Spartan breakfast, the Initiates attended classes held by the elder priestesses who instructed the initiates in Kryptian history and theology. The later part of the mornings were spent helping the cooks prepare for the midday meal. After lunch, the initiates were allocated housekeeping tasks which mainly involved cleaning parts of the Temple or Convent, or helping out in the kitchen. Whatever time they had left over between then and dinner was taken up with studies on topics covered that morning. Dinner was followed with evening devotionals after which the weary initiates were allowed to retire back to their rooms. 

Lydith spent most of her study time with Karyn in the library. Karyn had a passion for knowledge, especially Kryptian lore. She researched into dusty tomes and books and made her own notes. "There's so much that isn't clear about the Ways of Krypta," she commented to her new friend Lydith, "Although many of the rituals and spells have been passed down from priestess to priestess for generations, the lore behind those rituals and spells have somehow been forgotten over the years. The tomes and scrolls documented some of the lore, but there is still a lot left uncovered." Lydith could see that it was her friend's ambition to fully understand and document all she could find out about the Ways of Krypta. 

Towards the end of winter, word went around the initiates that Sister ShadowLife was in the Temple, which itself was much cause for excitement. Sister ShadowLife was one of the most powerful and feared priestesses throughout the land of Ardania. Her exploits during her service to Krypta and Sovereign had gained her a legendary reputation – it was said that her greatest achievement was when she single-handedly routed an entire host of goblins which had been poised to raid one of the major trading towns. Or so did Judith, Karyn's roommate, state. 

"The goblins never even stood a chance," said Judith with a knowing nod to the two fascinated girls. Judith was a few years older than Karyn and Lydith and would probably become an Acolyte by the end of the year. 

"I thought that her greatest achievement was when she defeated two dragons at once with her skeletons," said Karyn while pushing her spectacles back up her nose. 

Not wanting to be outdone, Judith waved her hand irritatedly. "Two dragons? That's nothing compared to the time she led the destruction of the Unholy Sanctuaries and drove the Evil Octi away." 

"Well, I heard that she's going to perform a special lecture for us initiates," said Lydith, hoping to change the subject before the two girls got into a 'Sister ShadowLife's greatest achievement' match. 

That was another piece of thrilling news which circulated among the excited initiates like wild-fire. Lectures by Sister ShadowLife were rare and undoubtedly important. It was rumoured that Sister ShadowLife was going to demonstrate to the initiates the art of raising undead, a ritual which the initiates had never witnessed before in detail. 

And so, a few days later, the initiates were called to assemble in the Sanctuary. Some of the more observant girls noticed the body lying on the altar the moment they entered the sacred hall. As the group of initiates arranged themselves along the red carpeted floor, they strained to see the unmoving corpse, as if expecting the body to sit up right then. It was clad in a simple brown tunic with a black cloth draped over the lower portion of the body like a blanket. 

Sister ShadowLife entered the Sanctuary from the side-door reserved for fully ordained sisters of Krypta. She stared at the girls with piercing black eyes before moving behind the body on the altar. She faced the class and began her lecture, "As the world knows, the power of Krypta is not to be lowly regarded. The power of death strikes fear in all except among the followers of the dread goddess. Throughout the history of Ardania, Kings and Sovereigns have recognised this power and have requested the assistance of the followers of Krypta in more than one occasion. Despite the many religious sects and orders in the world, we the followers of Krypta know that our Order will remain and thrive as certain as death exists, and at the very end of time reign supreme throughout Ardania once death claims all." 

She glanced around the assembly and was satisfied that the initiates will all hanging on her every word. "One aspect of the power of Krypta is the power to raise the undead." A nervous sigh of anticipation rippled through the class. "What are the undead?", the priestess continued. "You all know and recite the daily devotionals. What do they speak of? They tell of the elements of the human body. Body and soul. Upon the death of the body, the soul departs this world and enters the River of Souls which flows in the heavens. From here, the soul still can be retrieved and imbued back into the body, a process we call Resurrection, as long as it hasn't sunk too deeply into the River." 

"The body remains in the world, waiting to be recycled in the vast circle of Life and Death. However, like a broken tool, it still can be used to a certain level of effectiveness. Krypta knows this and Her power re-uses this tool to serve a new owner." 

A tentative hand raised itself. Sister ShadowLife frowned, unaccustomed to being interrupted halfway through a lecture. She stared at the owner of the hand, "Yes, girl?" 

Karyn put her hand down and spoke in a timid voice. "Sister ShadowLife, I um.. was just wondering about what you said about the River of Souls. Um.. in the heavens, where does the River flow?" 

"The River of Souls is strictly confined within the heavenly realm of Krypta," answered Sister ShadowLife with a tone that echoed finality. 

Karyn's nose started to twitch. Lydith had begun to recognise this trait in her friend – it signaled that her curiosity had taken over her mouth. "But, Sister ShadowLife, if the Healers of Agrela can resurrect people as well, won't that mean that the River of Souls could be shared or maybe even acting as a boundary between the realms of Krypta and Agrel.." 

"For Krypta's sake, girl! Do you want to become a priestess or a healer?" cut-in Sister ShadowLife sternly. The rest of the class tittered as a red-faced Karyn drew back next to Lydith. "What's wrong with wanting to know?" she muttered silently to Lydith who just smiled to pacify her friend's agitation. 

With an irritated sniff, Sister ShadowLife continued, "Today, I will demonstrate to you the ritual of raising the undead. You will not be taught the Words of Evocation until much later, but I can tell you that invoking the Words is no easy task. The words must be recited in your mind, and pronounced properly with correct intonations." She stared at her audience until she caught Karyn's gaze. "No questions until after the demonstration," she said sternly, causing another titter to ripple across the class. 

Sister ShadowLife looked down on the dead body before her and raised her hands, a look of hard concentration on her face. Neva, Sorsevarii-antha.. 

Lydith frowned. That's funny, she thought, her lips aren't moving but yet I can hear her in my mind. Sister ShadowLife's voice had changed as well. Instead of one voice, it sounded like there were at least three voices chanting at the same time, each intoning a different verse of the Evocation over and over again. 

Suddenly, a red glow spread itself over the body and, in front of Sister ShadowLife's intent audience, the eyes of the body opened to reveal a red glow from within. Lydith heard the strange voices of Sister ShadowLife soften as the body slowly sat up. The undead stared around, its red gaze sweeping across the awed faces of the gathered initiates. It lifted its head slightly. Without opening its mouth, a raspy voice sounded, _Where am I?_

Lydith was surprised. She had never been told that the undead could speak. She glanced around to see the reactions of the rest of the initiates and was puzzled that no one else seemed startled by the undead's words. 

Sister ShadowLife also seemed unperturbed by this as she continued to speak, "The power of Krypta infuses itself into the bones of the body, giving them the ability to move on their own. The skin and flesh is of no use and just serves as extra weight to the undead. After the Evocation, you will be taught spells to rapidly decay the flesh and skin of the body so that the skeleton can move around unhindered." 

"Also," she added with a glare to the class, "it is considered highly disgraceful for a priestess to have a half-rotten undead zombie which stinks to the heavens following her around. If I catch any of you doing that, I'll personally wring your necks and raise your bones myself." 

Nervous laughs echoed in the hall as the initiates wondered if the priestess was merely joking or really serious. Lydith watched the undead closely and wondered if she had imagined that the undead had said something. 

"You will initially find it hard to control an undead, but with practice, you will eventually be able to handle several more at the same time. What you must learn to do is to always recite the Evocation in your mind, stressing on the fact that the undead are dead and thus belong to Krypta. Observe." 

Lydith heard Sister ShadowLife speak those strange voices in her mind again. This time, they seemed stern and commanding. 

The undead screamed. _Ahhhhh! Stop! The blood! The pain! Stop!!_

Lydith stared in shock as the undead shrieked in her mind. All around her, the initiates and Sister ShadowLife seemed to be deaf to the undead's agony. Unable to bear the screams, she placed both hands on the sides of her head. "Stop it!" she screamed, "Can't you see that it's in pain!?" 

Startled by the girl's outburst, the priestess released her magic and the undead fell back upon the altar, dead once again. Sister ShadowLife stepped in front of the girl, her hands on her waist. "What is the meaning of this!?" she demanded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was past midnight and Lydith shifted uncomfortably in her bed. The day had gone from bad to worse after the incident in the Sanctuary. After unsuccessfully describing her experience to Sister ShadowLife, she was given the task of cleaning out the Temple furnaces all by herself, much to the delight of the other initiates who saw it as an indication that they would not need to do it themselves in the near future. 

Exhausted and feeling soot-stained despite her rigorous bath afterwards, she lay back on her bed. Her body was tired, but her mind would not let her sleep. The undead's mental screams troubled her, just as much as the question of why she could hear it but the others could not. And Sister ShadowLife's evocation, unheard by the rest, had been clear to her as if she had chanted them herself. 

At this thought, Lydith suddenly had an idea. She picked herself out of bed and put on her robes. Carefully, she crept out of the room, down the Initiates' Hall and proceeded towards the Sanctuary. 

The Sanctuary was dark with just a glimmer of moonlight coming in from the high windows. The red drapes and carpets seemed almost black in the half-light. Lydith walked towards the altar. The body was still there with no indication of its previous animation. 

_I'm crazy_, she thought as she surveyed the corpse. _But I have to know._

_Neva, Sorsevarii-antha.._

Slowly, she chanted the evocation from memory. It was difficult at first, trying to speak in two and three voices in her mind at the same time was complicated, but she tried over and over, getting an intonation wrong here, a word wrong there. An hour passed and Lydith had lost count of the number of times she had restarted. 

Then, her tired eyes noticed something. A dim red glow started to emit from behind the dead face's eyelids. Lydith stared in wonder as she subconsciously recited the final verse of the evocation in her mind. The glow strengthened, and then the corpse's eyes opened. 

Lydith held her breath as the undead corpse stared around. It turned its head slightly to face the girl, the red glowing eyes focusing on her. _Who.. are you?_

Lydith almost jumped out of her skin at the sudden mental question. Quickly, she regained her composure and replied in thought, _My name is Lydith._ She decided to be polite. _And what is your name?_

The undead continued its unnerving stare. _I am.. Streffen._ It's 'voice' was dry and raspy, as if it had difficulty in thinking. 

_Greetings Streffen_, she responded. _How did you end up dead?_

Immediately, the undead contorted as if in pain. _Knife! Darkness! Blood! Spilling in the alleyway!_

Lydith gasped at the sudden change and hurriedly thought, _And where do you work, Streffen?_ Lydith almost kicked herself for asking stupid questions. 

_Work?_ The undead seemed to think. _I worked.. as a baker._

_Baking must be a nice thing to do,_ she thought unable to think of any other response. 

_Baking.._ the undead seemed to pause in thought. _Smooth dough.. soft bread.. heat from the oven.. I feel.. the warmth.. _The undead's eyes glowed with what looked to Lydith like contentment. 

Lydith suddenly understood. The undead not only could remember it's past, it also felt through it's memories. Then, with grim realisation, Lydith understood why the priestesses were taught to control the undead using thoughts of death. The trauma of their own deaths caused severe mental agony to the undead. It was a small wonder why some of them seemed almost mad. 

The undead finally shifted its red stare from the girl to its surroundings. _Where am I?_

_You are in Necroselleum,_ thought Lydith. _In the Temple of Krypta._

_The Temple.. of Krypta,_ the undead being paused. _Keera._

Lydith frowned. _Who's Keera?_

_My.. living niece. She is here,.. as a servant._ The being that was Streffen stared at Lydith with dead eyes. _Tell her about me.. about what has.. happened to me._

Lydith felt tears coming to her eyes. _I will. I promise._

The undead baker shook its head from side to side as if trying to remember. _Tell her.. that the chest is under.. the floorboards._

Lydith waited. The baker did not appear to want to tell her the contents or whereabouts of the chest, so she did not ask. 

_I will,_ she repeated. 

The undead being slowly straightened itself upon the altar again. _Let me.. sleep again._

Lydith nodded and raised the palm of her hand, dispelling the death magic. The red glow in the undead's eyes began to fade away. 

_Lydith?_

_Yes?,_ thought Lydith while wiping the tears from her eyes. 

_Bury me,_ came the fading voice. _Please._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A light but urgent tapping on the door slowly brought Karyn awake. She got up and yawned. On the other bed, her roommate Judith was in a sleep deeper than death itself. Karyn muttered a small curse as she made her way to the door and opened it a crack. Lydith stood outside, her hands holding on to something behind her back. 

"Lydith, do you know what time it is?" whispered Karyn crossly while rubbing her eyes. 

"I need your help, Karyn." 

"Help? At this hour? What have you got behind you?" Karyn glanced behind Lydith and gasped in shock. Lydith was holding on to what seemed to be some red drapes which looked disturbingly familiar. Sprawled awkwardly upon the drapes was the baker's corpse. She must have used the drapes to drag the body all the way from the Sanctuary. 

"Are you completely out of your mind!?" squeaked Karyn, horrified into full wakefulness. 

Lydith considered that novel thought. Perhaps that would stop her from hearing the baker's words echoing in her head. "I wish I was." 

Karyn then recognised the drapes. "Those drapes.. are from the Sanctuary walls?" she asked in a weak tone. 

"Yes, and the faster you help me get this body to the gardens, the faster we can hang them back." 

There was a noise in the room and the girls froze. Karyn peeked back and saw Judith shift around in her sleep. She turned back to Lydith. "If we get caught, I'm going to say that it was all your idea and had nothing to do with me. In fact, I was just about to turn you in when.." 

"Sure, sure.. oh, do you know where we can get a spade?" 

"A spade!?" 

"We can't just leave it lying on the ground for everyone to see," said Lydith in a matter-of-fact voice. 

Karyn covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head in resignation. "What was I thinking when I became friends with you?" she muttered regretfully. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning was greeted with a buzz of excitement upon the discovery of the missing body from the Sanctuary. A search was carried out throughout the Temple and Convent which turned out bodiless. There was no mention of the phrase, "It couldn't have just got up and walked out by itself" because corpses in the Temple of Krypta, unfortunately, could. Mother Darkfriend sent word to the city governor to warn the citizens about the possibility of an uncontrolled undead walking the streets. 

At mid-morning, the initiates and acolytes were assembled in the Sanctuary. The stern Convent Mother of Krypta glowered at them, as if knowing that one of them was responsible for the entire mess. "It is not only imprudent but foolish to raise your own undead before your sisterhood. Someone can and will get hurt by whatever you bring back from the realm of Krypta, most likely yourself!" Mother Darkfriend's fiery glare swept the trembling crowd, as if trying to burn out the offender. "Pray for Krypta's help, for I will show no mercy to the one who is responsible for this." 

Her piercing gaze stopped at the Sanctuary drapes. "These drapes are filthy!" An idea formed in her head. "You will all wash them with your own bare hands! Krypta forbid that any of the servants defile these holy drapes!" The army of initiates and acolytes obediently proceeded to take the drapes down as the Convent Mother stormed out of the hall. 


	7. Chapter 7

The grave was a shallow one, with a large rock placed as its tombstone. A name was awkwardly scrawled on the rock, the person who wrote it probably used a sharp pebble.   
  
The end of a white staff tapped the rock. "Brinneck.. Trailblazer..", read Sister Shadowlife with a slight frown. Behind the priestess, her skeletons stood around and stared impassively at the surrounding trees. Another two priestesses searched the clearing for signs of recent passings.  
  
One of them approached Sister Shadowlife. "A ranger's name," she muttered as she too read the tombstone. "Why does the girl make graves like that?"  
  
Sister Shadowlife bowed her head in thought. "More intriguingly, how did she know the ranger's name?"  
  
"Perhaps the ranger traveled with them just before he was killed," suggested the second priestess.  
  
Sister Shadowlife shook her head slightly. "No, I can sense the traces of Reanimation. And the remains feel several weeks old. The girl raised the ranger's skeleton and somehow found out his name." She turned to the second priestess. "More likely one of his items bore his name."  
  
"Do you want me to raise this?" inquired the second priestess gesturing to the grave.  
  
"No, leave it. There is no nee-"  
  
A tree trunk smashed down on one of the skeletons with such force that shook the ground and reduced the skeleton into a pile of broken bone shards. The priestesses gasped in shock as a huge daemonwood stepped into the clearing and stared down at them.   
  
The dryad appeared from behind the monstrosity. "Dispel your hideous skeletons and surrender yourselves!" she demanded to the priestesses.  
  
Sister ShadowLife narrowed her eyes. "You are a fool if you wish to deal with us," she replied in an icy tone. "I am more powerful than whatever pets you have. Leave us now before I lose my patience."  
  
"Deceiving humans," spat the dryad angrily. "Just like the ones which tricked us and escaped."  
  
Sister ShadowLife sucked in her breath. "What did you say? There were others you captured?"  
  
"Three," said the dryad proudly. "But now I will have more." She spoke a command and the daemonwood advanced towards the priestesses and their skeletons.  
  
The priestesses raised their staffs. "So-See-Var!" Three globes of Kryptian magic blasted into the daemonwood. The monster slowed but still continued it's pace. It took a swipe at one of the skeletons which nimbly dodged out of the way. The other skeletons started slashing at the creature causing wood chips to fly in all directions.   
  
The daemonwood brought a huge branch crashing into one of its skeletal attackers, smashing it into bits. Another blast of Kryptian magic hit one of the creature's branches, causing it to wither and disintegrate like rotten wood. The creature roared in demonic anger and hate as more parts of it fell away.  
  
"Concentrate on the legs," said Sister ShadowLife through gritted teeth as she raised her staff for another blast. The other sisters complied and threw their own life-draining globes.  
  
A dreadful creaking and snapping sound filled the air as the tree trunk legs of the daemonwood gave way and the creature fell backwards, smashing down smaller trees and flattening bushes as it hit the ground.  
  
The dryad gaped at her fallen daemonwood and turned to flee just as a life-draining globe hit her. The woodland creature fell to the ground and tried to get up, only to find Sister ShadowLife already standing beside her. The priestess grabbed the dryad's arm, fingernails digging painfully into the green skin.  
  
"You shall tell me where they went," hissed the priestess in a deadly voice to the wide-eyed dryad. "Or, by Krypta, I will ensure that things will get most unpleasant."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Lydith found herself standing in a cavern shrouded in darkness. No matter how loudly she called, no one answered her back. She then heard a low, buzzing sound, like from the bee-hive behind her house in ThistleWood. She turned to see a red, glowing web stretched across the length of the cavern wall behind her. The web strands shimmered and buzzed with unknown energies. In the middle of the web, there was a figure hanging there, like a fly caught in the strands of the web. Lydith's eyes widened as the figure lifted its head and when she saw it's face. "Aunt Daedra," she mouthed in silent horror.  
  
"Help.. me..," called Aunt Daedra weakly. Lydith could see that the strands from the web not only were stuck to her skin, but had gruesomely pierced it in some places. A red glow emitted from Aunt Daedra's eyes as she called to Lydith. "Help.. me."  
  
Lydith started out of her sleep. It was already near dawn and the Convent's morning bell would begin tolling soon. She rubbed her eyes and found that her hands were sweating. She wiped them on the sleeves of her nightclothes and took a deep breath. This was not the first time she had had this dream. The dream had started coming about a few weeks ago. It was faint at first, she could barely remember it the first time she had it, but it came back repeatedly, the details of the dream getting more vivid each time.   
  
"It's definitely something important," Karyn said ponderingly when Lydith told her about it that afternoon. They both were in a small corner of the library, hidden behind a barricade of books. "You've been getting this dream for about two weeks now. Have you tried telling the priestesses about it?"   
  
Lydith nodded glumly. "I've tried telling Sister Shadowlife about it and all she says is that it could be because I miss Aunt Daedra. And none of them will tell me where she's gone."  
  
"Do you think it might have something to do with the things you've been practicing?" asked Karyn worriedly. Since the night of undead baker, Lydith and Karyn had been trying out her newfound ability in other aspects of Krypta's power. Lydith now found that she could, with much concentration at first, wither a plant or a piece of wood. She never tried raising another undead again, though – she felt that it was too risky, with all the priestesses around. Karyn had dug through a whole pile of historical text for references of priestesses who could speak to the undead, like what Lydith had done. There were not many.  
  
"Look at this one," she said while handing Lydith an open book. "Her name was Sister BlackBlood and she was said to have talked to the paladin Angela the Valiant after the paladin was killed by the evil dragon Braxtarius."  
  
Lydith read the text. "But she conversed with Angela's ghost which lingered on the world, not as an undead."  
  
They had both tested this before. A trip to the city's Mortuary, which was located in the Temple grounds and administrated by the priestesses, had revealed that Lydith could not hear or speak to the dead at rest. However, a visit to the priestesses' wing of the Temple proved traumatic. Lydith swore she could hear maddened screams and wails from the skeletons as they lurched after their priestesses. They did not go back there again.  
  
Lydith sighed and closed the book. "I don't know. Perhaps this ability I have is giving me a link to the people I love. If that is so, then I'm so afraid for Aunt Daedra. She was in such pain, Karyn. Such pain."  
  
"So what are you going to do, Lydith?" asked Karyn as she took the book back and re-opened it.  
  
Lydith looked up with tired eyes. "I must find out for myself."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The servant's entrance to the Convent of Krypta was a well-secluded door that opened into a street which was busy by day and silent by night. After the day servants left through the door in the evenings, the door was locked with a secure bolt and a large iron lock. The matron kept the only key to the door and after firmly locking it, she went straight to bed and snored loud enough to wake the dead.  
  
So it was a curious thing to see the door being unlocked and quietly opened in the middle of the night. A cautious head peeked out before disappearing inside again. The door opened wider and a small figure in a dark cloak stepped outside into the street. It turned towards another person within the doorway and whispered, "Thank you, Keera."  
  
The person in the doorway whispered back. "I still think you have gone completely mad, miss Lydith. The priestesses are going to discover your absence in a few hours and by this afternoon, you'll be back here facing the wrath of Mother Darkfriend."  
  
Lydith ignored the gloomy portent. "We'll see about that, Keera. But thank you so very much for your help, taking the key from the matron's room is no mean feat."  
  
Keera snorted. "Madam Gronstraut wouldn't wake up for anything short of an invasion of screaming barbarians. And it is you I must thank for giving me poor Uncle Steffern's message. My aunt and I are both indebted to you for helping us find the deeds to his store – the governor's men would have taken the place from us within days."  
  
"I was only carrying out his last request," replied Lydith. "I am glad that it was timely." She turned to leave. "You better put the key back before someone sees you."  
  
Keera waved goodbye and shut the door. Lydith listened to the sound of the bolt sliding into place and the iron lock snapping shut before walking off. By the time she reached the junction at end of the street, she was already confronted with her first problem. She wanted to find Gameth but she did not know where the Warrior's Guild was and there was no one on the streets at this time of the night to help her. She looked down both ways of the junction. "Krypta guide me," she muttered while she picked the left one by random and started walking.  
  
After walking for what felt like fifteen minutes and taking several turns, Lydith found herself completely lost. She could not even retrace her steps back to the street where she first started out. Each dark street seemed exactly the same as the other one. Lydith looked in vain for signposts and street names and cursed whoever it was who designed the layout of the city.  
  
"Lost, missy?" came a voice from a dark alley. Lydith turned to see two men saunter out of the alleyway. One of them had an eye-patch over his right eye while the other was short and grubby.  
  
Lydith instinctively knew that she was in trouble. She had heard about the rogues on the streets and about what they were capable of. "My friends from the Warrior's Guild are expecting me," she said. "They would find me here soon enough."  
  
The rogues sniggered. "The Warrior's Guild is a fair distance from here, missy," grinned the one with the eye-patch. "I bet they won't even hear you scream from here."  
  
Lydith spun around and broke into a wild run down one of the streets. Behind her, she could hear the rapid footsteps of the rogues as they chased her. She ran into what seemed to be a small, square junction and ducked into an alleyway. Her breath was fast and panicked as she watched the rogues run into the square and look around the streets. Suddenly, there was a noise beside her. Lydith turned her head and found herself staring face-to-face with a hideous, grinning fox-head.  
  
"Help, you need?" asked the fox-head to which Lydith screamed. The rogues immediately started running to her alleyway. The fox-head jumped back and Lydith saw that it was really a wooden mask being worn by a small man scantily dressed in animal skins and a tattered loin-cloth. "Follow me!" hooted the man as he too turned and ran. Lydith stared at the retreating figure for a split second before making up her mind and running after him.  
  
They ran out the other end of the alleyway into another street. The small man turned left and ducked into another alleyway. Lydith followed him and almost collided into his back.  
  
"Wait! Stop here!" The small man jerked Lydith to a halt and pushed her against the wall of the alleyway. He then placed both his hands on the wall at both sides of the girl. "What are you doing!?" Lydith demanded in a harsh whisper.  
  
"Shh!" hissed the man as he suddenly changed colour before her eyes. Lydith almost gasped at the transformation, the man's skin seemed to blend into the same dark gray colour as the wall behind her. Sounds of running echoed from around the corner and the two rogues appeared. They looked around and did not see the camouflaged man or the girl behind him. "That way!" ordered the rogue with the eye-patch and they both ran past the hidden pair and down another alleyway.  
  
The small man waited until he could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit. Then he grinned at Lydith and changed back to his normal skin colour. "Nice friends, you got," he quipped.  
  
"If you don't remove your hands this instant, I'll introduce my knee to your loin cloth," said Lydith through gritted teeth. The small man snatched his hands off the wall and jumped back in mock fear.   
  
"Heh heh, and nice humour, you got too," he said with a wide grin. "Yellow Sky is my name. What's yours?"  
  
"Lydith," answered Lydith without thinking. She then silently cursed herself for not being careful.  
  
"Hello, Lydith. Yellow Sky's from the Temple of Fervus. Where's Lydith from?"  
  
"Not for you to know," replied Lydith sharply.  
  
The little cultist snickered at her defensive response. "Fine with Yellow Sky. Yellow Sky likes puzzles. Let's see, you don't know where you are; that means.. you don't go round this city much. And, Yellow Sky saw you come out from the Convent of Krypta. So Yellow Sky guesses that you are runaway convent girl trying to get to gates of the city to run back home. Is Yellow Sky right? Does he win a prize?" The grinning cultist widened his eyes in anticipation.  
  
Lydith stiffened at the cultist's deductions. The cultist had guessed a little too correctly for her liking. "Thank you for your help, and good bye." She started off down the alleyway.  
  
"Heh heh, don't worry about Yellow Sky returning you back to Convent, Lydith," called the cultist after the girl, "Nothing in it for him, and the priestesses don't like cultists very much, especially Yellow Sky. Bad priestesses probably drain poor Yellow Sky dead instead and raise him as undead servant. Yellow Sky just doesn't like seeing silly people blundering around city at night and getting killed. Just tell him where you need to go, and he'll gladly help you get there." He grinned reassuringly at Lydith.  
  
Lydith paused. The cultist was right about the blundering part; she had absolutely no idea how to get to the Warrior's Guild to find Gameth. And she needed to get there as fast as possible before the priestesses discover her absence.   
  
"Very well," she said as she turned to face the cultist. "I might need your help again."   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Lydith and Yellow Sky were greeted at the door of the Warrior's Guild by a warrior of discord wearing a woman's lacy nightgown. "Ooo lookie what we have here?" giggled the insane warrior.  
  
Lydith tried not to laugh at the ridiculous sight while Yellow Sky bawled over in an uncontrollable laughing fit. "I'm looking for Gameth", she said, trying to distract the warrior from the cultist rolling on the floor.  
  
"Ooo Gameth!" The warrior of discord turned around and started calling out the warrior's name in a shrill voice. "Gaaameth! Gameth? There's a giiirrrl here to see you!"  
  
After a while, the cultist finally got himself under control and Gameth appeared at the door, thankfully wearing normal clothing and armour. "Lydith?" he said in a startled voice. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Gameth!", Lydith let out a breath of relief at the sight of the aged warrior. "Thank Krypta you're here! Aunt Daedra needs our help!"  
  
"Good heavens, girl! How did you get out of the Convent?"  
  
"Ooooo I see that your taste is for convent girls, hmmm?" The warrior of discord's head appeared from the side of the doorway.  
  
Gameth grimaced. "Shut up, Damious. And go away."  
  
Damious raised his hand to his chest in seeming shock. "I'm deeply offended, Gameth! I thought we had something special between us!"  
  
Lydith broke in. "Don't ask how, but I know that Aunt Daedra is in trouble. And we have to get to her before it is too late."  
  
Gameth nodded. The warrior was apparently used to emergencies like these. "Let me get my things."  
  
"You need things to get yourself started, Gameth?" The warrior of discord hooted in laughter like a deranged hyena.  
  
Gameth winced and faced the giggling warrior. "Oh look, Damious! You've hurt your head again!"  
  
Damious squinted upwards. "Where?" Gameth punched the warrior of discord across the side of the head with his gauntlet fist. Damious looked back, crossed his eyes, and fell unconscious on the floor.  
  
"Is he alright?" asked Lydith with slight concern.  
  
"Was he alright to begin with?" growled Gameth. "Come on, let's move before someone else sees you."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The garden of the Temple to Krypta was quieter than graveyard in the middle of the night, with even the absence of chirping night insects one might normally expect. There was a slight scuffle as a dark figure dropped down from the ten-foot high garden walls. Peering around carefully, the figure treaded its way slowly towards the temple building and entered an open archway. It glanced left and right, as if deciding which way to go, before moving down the left corridor.  
  
Suddenly, there was a squeak of a rusty hinge as a door further down the corridor opened. The figure swiftly stepped behind stone pillar and watched as Keera exited from the door and carefully closed it behind her. As the door shut, the figure could hear the resounding snores of someone in the room. The servant then proceeded further down the corridor before disappearing into another room.  
  
Breathing out in relief, the figure started to move out of its hiding place, just as a leather gloved hand clamped over its mouth. The figure gave a muffled shriek and tried to turn to face its assailant, but the point of a dagger into the small of its back made a edged suggestion to stop struggling.  
  
"Who are you and what is your business here?" a voice growled into the figure's ear. The hand released its grip on the figure's mouth, but the dagger remained.  
  
"I.. I'm not here to hurt anyone," stuttered the figure. "My name is Kievan and.. and.. I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I swear!"  
  
"Not so loud!" hissed the voice into Kievan's ear. "There are a few who do not sleep in this place." Kievan could feel his captor look around to see if anyone had heard them. "If you are here to steal, Kievan, you are a fool for not finding out more about the layout of the temple grounds. The temple vaults were on the right at the archway."  
  
"Oh.. really?," stammered Kievan, a little wide-eyed.  
  
"Fifty meters straight and then down the second stairs guarded by half a dozen skeletal guards," continued the person behind him. "There's probably more wards or guards within the vault itself. The priestesses always like to surround their valuables with little undead surprises." The dagger point eased back a little. "Perhaps you were a lucky fool to have taken the wrong turn at the archway after all."   
  
He let Kievan go and the thief turned around to face him. It was hard to see, but he could make out a lean man standing next to the pillar. The man was dressed in dark leather, with a hood that shadowed the top portion of his face. Kievan then saw that it was not a dagger that had been pressed against his back, but a sleek, black crossbow.  
  
Kievan raised his hands in submission. "I apologise for bumbling into you, sir. There was no word at the guild that someone was attempting a job in the Temple."  
  
The crossbow pointed itself to Kievan's head. "You part of the Guild?"  
  
Kievan cursed himself inwardly. He should have guessed that this man was an independant. The guild treated non-member thieves harshly whenever they found one. "Please, sir – I am new in the guild and I won't tell a soul that I saw you here."  
  
"Only a fool would trust a rogue's word."   
  
Kievan closed his eyes, fully expecting to feel the cold metal shaft pierce through his skull. However, he heard the rustling sound of robes instead. Immediately, the leather-gloved hand grabbed Kievan by the front of his tunic and pulled him into the shadows.  
  
Both of them watched as a robed priestess walked down the corridor, accompanied by two skeletons. The priestess stopped in front of a door that was opened by someone from the inside. She did not enter the room, but stood where she was. "The girl has left, favoured one," she said reverently to someone in the room.  
  
A raspy voice replied, so cold and lifeless that it made Kievan shudder, "Very good. You have done well, sister. Give yourself some excuse to leave the temple and make your way to the caverns in time for the ritual."  
  
The priestess bowed her head in affirmation. "I will offer to go after the girl when her absence is discovered." The priestess looked up. "What of her father?"  
  
"Our useless allies in Centuria have failed to locate him. He knows not who we are, but he is surely coming after his daughter. However, by the time he finds her, it would be too late." The voice suddenly stopped. "Wait,.. I sense.. someone here.."  
  
The priestess immediately spun around, her staff at ready. With a deft flick of her hand, she ordered her two skeletons to search the pillars. The pair of gaunt cadavers moved swiftly, one armed with a sword and the other with a dull metal mace.  
  
We're going to die, thought Kievan just as the figure beside him stepped out of the shadows, crossbow held up. The skeletons immediately started towards him, just as a fiery bolt left the crossbow to hit the sword-wielding one in the skull. The undead gaped as it burst into flames.  
  
"Kill him!" shrieked the priestess as she raised her staff to blast a life-draining globe at the leather-clad figure. However, the man was quicker as he leapt forward and kicked the burning skeleton back into the priestess. In one fluid motion, he turned and ducked as a mace swung harmlessly over him, its undead wielder snarling silently.  
  
Kievan gaped unbelievingly as the man ran back. "Run if you want to live," the man shot at the thief as he passed the pillar. That brought Kievan's senses back as he too turned and sped off after the man. 


	8. Chapter 8

"Ye gods, cultist! I swear if you don't keep this thing away from me, I'll tie all eight of its legs around your neck!" bellowed Gameth as he scrambled to get up.  
  
Yellow Sky wrapped a protective arm around the giant spider as it backed away from the fuming warrior. "Look what you did," he said reproachfully. "You've hurt Chompalot's feelings. He really looks up to you, you know."  
  
"I don't care!" raged the warrior. "I'm sick of waking up in the mornings to the smell of spider breath all over my face!"  
  
"That's how he shows his affection," began the cultist, just as Lydith stepped into the clearing where they had spent the night.  
  
Gameth turned to regard the girl. "And where have you been? You shouldn't be wandering off by yourself – it's too dangerous! And you!" he fumed again at the cultist, "How can you let her go off on her own!?"  
  
"I didn't go far, Gameth," replied Lydith before the cultist could answer. "I just went to get some water." She held up a filled canteen. "And Yellow Sky could see me all the while."  
  
Gameth took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Lydith," he said. "I didn't mean to go off on you like that. It's just that we're getting closer to the caverns every day and we're entering regions where creatures worse than goblins can be found. And I'm not really a morning person as you might have noticed."  
  
"Gameth always in bad mood in the mornings," observed Yellow Sky.  
  
"Shut up, cultist."  
  
"There is something else, Gameth," said Lydith uneasily. "I feel like something's been here before. I don't know what it is, but it reeks of death and passed here a few days ago." She gave a worried look to Gameth. "I've been feeling traces like this the closer we get to the caverns. I fear that this more than just the three of us can handle."  
  
"The seven of us!" corrected Yellow Sky, arm still around the spider.  
  
Gameth frowned, ignoring the cultist. "More undead roaming around this area is bad news. And if Daedra is in trouble in a place like this, then we're going to have to get her out. Hopefully, we'll be able to find her before anything else finds us."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Getting out of the city of Necroselluem in the middle of the night proved easier than Lydith had anticipated. The city guards at the gate were acquainted with Gameth and hardly asked any questions regarding the warrior's sudden departure from the city. After a brief friendly chat, a guard at the gate opened a small door built into the gate itself and let them through.  
  
Once outside, Lydith proceeded to tell Gameth about everything she had experienced while in the convent. Gameth listened intently while Yellow Sky followed along in an uncaringly gleeful attitude, distracted by anything he found curious. The full moon provided enough light for the three of them to walk without need of a lantern.  
  
Gameth was silent until Lydith told him about her ability to 'hear' the undead speak. He hesitated before he spoke. "I've.. heard about this ability of yours, Lydith."  
  
"You have?" said Lydith in surprise. "My friend Karyn and I have scoured over every book in the temple library and we didn't find any reference to it at all."  
  
"I don't think you would have. The priestesses keep records of it in a much more secure place. But even they do not have much on it, save that it is an ability bestowed by Krypta herself." He looked at Lydith. "Your mother had this same ability."  
  
Lydith stared at him unbelievingly. "You never told me," she managed after a while.  
  
"I was sworn to secrecy," replied Gameth. "By your own mother. She told me that she found it more a curse than a blessing. Anyone who knew of her powers, especially other priestesses, tended to keep their distance, too fearful of her abilities, yet too astute to let her be. She never wanted a different life from anyone else, but this ability forever kept her apart from others."  
  
"But Aunt Daedra was not distant from her," Lydith pointed out. "And neither were you."  
  
"Ah, girl," sighed Gameth. "I don't think it was the distance of other people that affected your mother; it was more the discomfort of being treated differently."  
  
They walked for a while in silence, Lydith deep in thought. What her mother had faced before was potentially what she would have to face in her own future and the prospect troubled her. After a while, she firmly pushed those worries aside - she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Meanwhile, she had to turn her attention to more urgent matters. "Gameth?" she queried. "Do you think that this ability is somehow linked to why I feel that Aunt Daedra is in danger?"  
  
Gameth shrugged. "It is possible, I suppose. As I said, even the priestesses do not know much about it," he replied. "But just knowing that she is in danger is not enough. What more can you tell me about this place you see Daedra in?"  
  
The details of her dreams were etched in Lydith's mind, so she described them as best as she could. "She seemed to be in a cave or cavern, some place under the ground. The walls and ground were reddish-yellow, but it could have been because of the red light from the web she was trapped in."  
  
"Reddish-Yellowish Caves!" The cultist bounded up excitedly. "Yellow Sky has seen such caves! Yellow Sky can take you!"  
  
"Not so fast, cultist," growled Gameth. "We can't go running after every cave you've been to just because you think they looked red or yellow or purple."  
  
"Reddish-Yellowish rocks!" insisted the cultist. "From sacred priestess caverns up north!"   
  
Gameth and Lydith exchanged glances. "Well," admitted the warrior. "The cultist is probably referring to the Caverns of Shovah-Ukran north from here. Massive limestone caves which have some red clay impurities that streak the yellow walls with reddish lines. But anyway, the priestesses consider it a holy place and dislike people from going there. Not that many would want to – the area around those caverns are not particularly safe for anyone."  
  
"Except Yellow Sky!" declared the cultist. "Yellow Sky can lead you there, past all dangers and bad creatures!"  
  
"I suppose that's all we have now, Gameth," said Lydith. "At least until I remember more details from the dreams."  
  
"Very well," said Gameth. He scowled at the grinning cultist. "Meanwhile, I'll be watching you. I don't trust you, or your folk and if this turns out to be one of your pranks, I'll make sure you'll regret it more than I will for taking directions from a cultist."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A deep resounding bell began to toll as Tomas landed on the pavement outside the temple walls. He looked around for any pursuers just as Kievan landed beside him.  
  
"The temple bell!" gasped the thief. "By Krypta's blood, every priestess and undead in the city is going to come stalking now!"  
  
Tomas scanned the area once again. "Can't stay in the city then," he remarked.  
  
"There are many ways out," said Kievan. "You can try the Hungry Varg tavern on the south wall – they've got a tunnel to the outside which they'll let you use for a reasonable price as long as you don't sound too desperate. I'll find some place to lay low for a while until the commotion dies down."  
  
Tomas leveled his crossbow at the thief. "And you're coming with me."  
  
Kievan swore to himself. "Listen, sir," said Kievan. "I've already told you that I'm not going to tell anyone at the Guild about you."  
  
"The only way you're staying behind is dead and hidden in an alleyway," replied Tomas. "Once we're both some distance from the city, you can go."  
  
Kievan threw his hands up in frustration. "Okay, fine, I'll come with you," he snapped. "But at least tell me what your name is."  
  
Tomas paused for a while before he replied. "Tomas. My name is Tomas."  
  
"Tomas, eh?" said Kievan in a sarcastic tone. "Named yourself after the Taker, did you?"  
  
Tomas smiled in amusement. "Something like that."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Tomas's comment of a few who did not sleep in the Temple of Krypta might have been based on a number of rumours that circulated even amongst the Temple servants themselves. It was said that no one had ever seen the Convent Mother Darkfriend sleep. The servants whispered that although the official sleeping quarters of the Convent Mother were located next to her study, and that it was cleaned out every morning, the bed itself remained unslept in.   
  
Of course, the more sceptical would state that the Convent Mother either made it a point to make her own bed every morning, or kept very bad sleeping habits on her study room chair. Nevertheless, Sister ShadowLife was slightly taken-aback when her tentative knock on the Convent Mother's door in the middle of the night was immediately answered by a curt response to enter.  
  
The priestess entered the dark wood study room, her head bowed respectfully as she moved towards the polished desk where the Convent Mother is busily writing into a large tome with a goose feather quill by the light of a desk oil lamp. The Convent Mother did not look up from her writing as she spoke. "Good evening, Sister ShadowLife. Here to report on tonight's occurances?"  
  
"Yes, Mother Darkfriend," nodded the priestess. "There were intruders this night in the servant's wing. Thieves, most likely, and they were pursued to the gardens where they escaped over the wall."  
  
"Thieves, you say," sniffed Mother Darkfriend. "Even when the city's rogue's guildmaster is too afraid to even relieve himself against the Temple's outer wall? Something is not quite right, Sister ShadowLife."  
  
"Yes, Mother Darkfriend," admitted the priestess.  
  
"Send word to the guildmaster. I will have words with him about these.. thieves."  
  
"At once, Mother Darkfriend." Sister ShadowLife hesitated as she ventured to speak again. "There is.. another thing, dread Mother. The initiate Lydith has disappeared from her chambers. No one knows where she is."  
  
The quill stopped as Mother Darkfriend peered up sharply at the priestess. "In Sister Daedra's absence, I thought I made it clear that the girl was under your supervision, Sister ShadowLife."  
  
Sister ShadowLife did not look up to meet the Convent Mother's piercing gaze. "I apologize, Mother. I was-"  
  
"What you were doing is inconsequential," said the Convent Mother sharply. "You will form a search party and find the girl. She is too valuable to be lost at this time."  
  
"Yes, Mother Darkfriend," replied Sister ShadowLife.   
  
The Convent Mother frowned as she leaned back on her study chair. "Two things happening on the same night.. almost seemingly by chance. I do not believe in co-incidences, Sister ShadowLife." She focused on the priestess before her. "I want those thieves apprehended and brought to me."  
  
"Do you wish me to inform the Guildmaster and the City Watch?" asked Sister ShadowLife.  
  
"No," said Mother Darkfriend thoughtfully. "We will deal with this ourselves."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Eighteen gold sovereigns, and not a copper less," stated the elven tavern keeper while examining his carefully manicured finger-nails.  
  
"What!?" exclaimed Kievan. "Last time, you charged me six when I used the tunnel!"  
  
"Last time, me and my household weren't woken up in the middle of the night, and you didn't have a suspicious-looking character with you," sniffed the elf disdainfully as he observed Tomas who was standing behind Kievan.   
  
"If you think that I'm going to pay three times the price-"  
  
"Pay him," uttered Tomas over Kievan's shoulder as he looked around the empty tavern. It was a modest establishment and like most elven businesses, it offered one or two highly illegal services, in this case access to a tunnel through the city walls which also conveniently doubled as the tavern's backroom wall. There was a saying that elves could make gold from selling air.  
  
"Pay him!? Are you deaf? He's charging us eighteen gold for a stroll through a hole in a wall!"  
  
"You could keep your gold and stroll through the city-gates," suggested the elf smoothly.  
  
Tomas placed a pouch on the bar counter and slid it to the elf. "Here's twenty. A little extra to ensure that it is a quiet stroll, if you take my meaning."  
  
The elf quickly poured out the contents of the pouch on the bar counter and proceeded to count the gold right in front of them. After collecting the gold back into the pouch, the elf smiled oily. "Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen. If you could please follow me."  
  
They both followed the elf down a short corridoor which ended at a wooden door. Entering through it, they found themselves in a storage room for large casks of wine and ale. Several of these have been pushed back to reveal a solid-looking trap door next to the back wall, with metal bolts sealing it shut. Two other elves were here as well, standing next to the trap door.  
  
Kievan caught a glance from Tomas and quickly asked, "What are they doing here?" refering to the two elves.  
  
"Oh, we are expecting some visitors to our fair city tonight," replied the elven tavern keeper off-handedly. "We always station someone here to welcome visitors, as well as to collect their gold of course."  
  
"Didn't you just tell me that you and your household were all sleeping when we came here?"  
  
"He's such a charming boy, is he not?" smiled the elf to Tomas.  
  
Kievan angrily held up a warning finger. "Don't call me 'boy', you pasty-faced p-"  
  
A sudden knocking from beneath the trap door interrupted the young thief. The two elves waited until a sequence of knocks had completed before unbolting the trap door.  
  
Tomas's instincts began to knaw at him. "Stand back," he said to Kievan who was already backing away.  
  
The two elves lifted the trap door. "Welcome to Necroselluem," called the elven tavern keeper as the opening revealed the very surprised face of Sylas, Krut and three other rogues from Centuria. 


	9. Chapter 9

It is said that Helia, the Goddess of the Sun, hides her face from places that have somehow gained her disfavour. If that were true, thought Lydith, then this part of the forest must have displeased the fiery goddess a long time ago. Even though it was early in the afternoon, the sunlight seemed dim and waning, and the gnarled branches of the twisted trees around them strove to give the atmosphere a forbidding sense of gloom.  
  
"Come on! Not far to go!" came Yellow Sky's bright shout ahead of the girl and the warrior, a stark contrast to the depressiveness of their surroundings.  
  
Gameth swore under his breath. "I'm not surprised if he's woken every creature in the forest with all that noise!"   
  
Lydith gave the warrior a tired smile. "But at least we haven't encountered any 'bad creatures' so far." Her feet were sore from walking and she leaned against her pale staff to rest for a moment.  
  
"Only a matter of time," grunted the aged warrior, fingering the hilt of his sword absently. "There are reasons why even rangers don't travel in here alone."   
  
A sudden joyful shout sounded ahead of them. "Look! Come quick and see!"  
  
"Can't that cultist keep his mouth shut?" muttered Gameth as they moved towards Yellow Sky's voice. They finally broke through the line of dark trees and saw the small man hopping up and down gleefully as he pointed.  
  
"See!? Yellow Sky told you that he knew where the caverns are! See?" hooted the cultist happily. The four giant spiders skittered around him, perhaps intriguied by Yellow Sky's enthusiam.  
  
The sight took Lydith's breath away. Ahead of them rose a cliff wall of limestone, higher than any of the buildings she had ever seen, even in Necroselleum. Cutting into the stone, like a gash made by an enourmous axe, was the entrance to the caverns of Shovah-Ukran. What was impressive, however, were the carvings on the walls around the entrance itself. Statues had been carved out from the limestone rock, along with words and verses, too faded by age to be coherently made out. To the left and right of the entrance rose two horn-shaped pillars that pointed accusingly at the dreary sky, their sides decorated with carvings of bones and skulls.   
  
Lydith recognised the architecture with a sense of dread. The caverns were an ancient Temple to Krypta.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Don't be silly spiders, you silly spiders!" snapped Yellow Sky crossly as he stamped his feet on the ground. In front of him, the spiders squealed their nervous response.  
  
"What's wrong with them?" asked Lydith, standing in front of the cavern entrance.  
  
Yellow Sky snorted. "They don't like this place. They sense bad things inside."  
  
"Then they're got more sense than most people," replied Gameth as he peered into the darkness. His sword was already drawn as he scanned for movement within. He turned to Lydith. "How certain are you that this might be the place?"  
  
Lydith stared at the walls of the cliff face. The yellow, crumbling limestone was streaked with reddish lines of clay, an effect that made the walls look similar to that in her dreams. "I think so," she said hesitantly as she ran her hands on the brittle stone.  
  
Gameth grunted. "Thinking so is all we have now, I suppose. Come on." He led the way in. Lydith gave a quick glance at the cultist who was still arguing with the spiders before she too followed the aged warrior into the darkness.   
  
Yellow Sky glared at the spiders, which in turn stared back at him. Sixteen pairs of eyes versus one eventually caused the cultist to haughtily turn his back and march after the other two. "Some warrior spiders you are!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the entrance. The spiders peered after the little man and skittered around indecisively.  
  
Lydith's eyes eventually got used to the darkness. Somewhere above, light had managed to penetrate the cavern roof, perhaps through some cracks in the stone. However, the light that filtered down was cold and lifeless. Still, it was enough for them to see and Lydith looked around, her uneasiness mounting with every step. They were in a huge natural hall, almost as large as the Sanctuary back in the Convent temple. The walls of the hall were dimly yellow, and everywhere, reddish lines streaked the walls and ground, in some places almost gruesomely like blood. The details of the whole thing caught her breath; it was exactly like the cave in her dream.  
  
"Look there," muttered Gameth before she could tell the warrior. He gestured towards the far end of the great cavern. In the dim light, a pale altar rose from the ground, cut from the stone itself. Lydith spotted something near the altar. "Gameth," she whispered as she pointed. There, lying on the ground in front of the altar was a crumpled figure wearing a faded priestess robe.  
  
Gameth saw the figure as well and quickened his step towards it. "Come on, girl," he said. "By the gods, if that's Aunt Daedra, I'll gut whoever who's responsible for-"  
  
Pain!.. Blood!.. Life seeping away!.. Must kill!.. Must kill them all.. Lydith literally staggered back under the wave of bitterness and hate that came flooding into her mind. "Gameth!" she gasped, her fingers gripping her staff, her knuckles white. "They're all around us!"  
  
And then the undead were upon them. Lurching out of the shadows, the foul stench hit them first before the ghastly view of dead skin and rotting flesh. Lydith quailed at the sight; these were not undead skeletons like the ones she was accustomed to back at the Convent. These were putrid shambling zombies; their decaying limbs reaching out towards them while their gaping mouths seemed to shriek the maddened voices in her head.  
  
Gameth was already stepping forward to meet the shambling mob, his sword slashing towards the zombie nearest to them. His stroke sliced off the creature's arm, causing a spray of semi-dried blood to spurt in all directions. The zombie clawed at the aged warrior with its remaining arm, but missed as the warrior stepped out of the way, his sword already flashing down with another finishing stroke.  
  
Yellow Sky dashed past Lydith to hurl several of his daggers at an advancing zombie. The small blades all buried themselves into the zombie's chest, but hardly slowed it down as it continued its awful stagger toward them. "Uh oh," Lydith heard the cultist say as he backed away.  
  
A piercing squeal filled the air as Chompalot the spider leapt from behind Lydith to land on the zombie, bringing it to the ground. Around her, Lydith could see another spider, Cherry perhaps, webbing a zombie to the ground while the other two spiders viciously tore into the undead's flesh.  
  
"Heh, always good to have friends like spider friends," quipped the grinning cultist to Lydith as he sprang off to help his eight-legged companions. A gibbering in Lydith's mind caused the girl to spin around to face a zombie reaching out at her. The creature staggered as she dealt it a hefty thwack! with her staff and spun wildly before ending up in the waiting mandibles of one of the spiders.  
  
The attack was over as suddenly as it began. Gameth pulled his sword out of a still-moving zombie torso and glanced around in the darkness searching for other dangers. Around the aged warrior were no less than four dismembered zombies, their limbs still flailing uselessly on the ground. Gameth's breathing was strained and heavy. "Lydith," he puffed. "Get Daedra. Let's get out of here before more of them turn up."  
  
Lydith rushed over to the pale altar and tried to ignore the signs of stained blood covering it. The figure on the ground had not stirred throughout the battle, and as the girl reached it, Lydith could see slight movement that indicated consciousness. "Aunt Daedra?" she whispered as she drew close.   
  
"Lydith…" came the reply. The figure lifted its head and smiled.   
  
And Lydith screamed.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sylas gaped in astonishment for a crucial second before he found his tongue. "That's him!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Tomas who was already dashing towards the back-room door. "Get him!" Behind Sylas, Krut was struggling to pull out his crossbow while another rogue produced a dagger and threw it in one fluid motion.  
  
Tomas leapt sideways into the doorway, narrowly dodging the dagger which had been aimed low in an attempt to hamstring him. Sprinting down the short corridor, the rogue found himself back at the tavern's taproom. Behind him, he could hear the high-pitched yells of the elven tavern keeper as he was roughly shoved aside by Tomas's pursuers. There was a wood-splintering crash from the back-room, followed by a strangled shout, "Tomas!". Tomas stopped, his hand on the tavern door handle. It was Kievan.  
  
"Walk out of this place, and your friend gets an early tumble with the Dark Lady," came Sylas's sneer from the back-room. Tomas turned as the Centurian rogues came out of the back-room, pushing Kievan in front of them. The young thief's hands were up in submission, and nasty gash trailed blood from his forehead.  
  
Tomas grimaced and raised his hands as well. "Let him go, Sylas. He's just a boy. It's me you want."   
  
Fortunately, Sylas answered before Kievan could make a retort over Tomas's comment, "We'll see about that after we bring you both back to Centuria."  
  
"What is the meaning of all this!?" voiced the outraged elven tavern keeper as he bustled into the room from behind the rogues. "No fighting or smashing things in my tavern, you worms! Otherwise, you can go find another way in and out of Necroselleum! And someone had better pay for that broken cask of wine in the back-room!"  
  
"You will be adequately repaid," replied Sylas, his crossbow still trained on Tomas. "The Guild Coinmaster Ryand will see to it." He smiled at Tomas. "You, for one, should know never to trust a rogue, Taker. Particularly one like Ryand."  
  
Tomas face was grim. "That's too bad. I'll ask him why before I kill him."   
  
Before Sylas could take a step forward, the tavern front door behind Tomas shattered with a tremendous crash. Tomas was flung forwards as skeletons marched into the tavern, armed with various swords and maces. The tavern keeper gave a high-pitched scream as a huge armoured being wielding a massive sword stepped through the doorway, its eyes blazing red through its visored helm.  
  
"Ye gods!" gasped Sylas as he instinctively fired his crossbow at the six-foot-tall monstrosity. The steel bolt clanged harmlessly against the side of the being's helm and buried itself into the remains of the door frame. Next to Sylas, Krut fired a futile shot at an advancing skeleton which simply stuck into the undead's ribcage doing no real damage.   
  
Kievan had fallen down on his hands and knees when the door smashed in. He looked up in time to see a skeleton swinging a mace at him. With a yelp, he rolled aside, the mace landing on the wooden floor with a splintering crack! Rolling unto his feet, the young thief sprang up to face Tomas's readied crossbow. "Let's get out of here," said Tomas, to which Kievan whole-heartedly agreed.  
  
One of the centurian rogues had a shortsword out and was desperately parrying the slashes from a sword-wielding skeleton. A well-struck blow decapitated the skeleton, its skull bouncing hollowly on the tavern floor. As the rogue savoured his triumph, the dark shadow of the armoured being fell over him. The rogue gaped in terror as he looked up into the blazing red eyes within the creature's visored helm before the massive sword split him cleanly from shoulder to waist.  
  
"Fall back!" yelled Sylas desperately as he backed away into the room where the tunnel was. Krut was panickedly reloading his crossbow as three skeletons surrounded him. One of them struck, and the rogue stared dumbly at his crossbow as it fell from his unfeeling fingers. Next to him, another rogue yelled as the armoured being picked him up and hurled him against the wall like ragged doll.  
  
Sylas gaped and turned to run for it, but a blurred slash stopped him mid-stride. The rogue stared at the elven tavern keeper in front of him before he grasped his throat to stop the gush of blood. The elf wiped his long curved dagger clean with a dish cloth as he watched the rogue fall to his knees and collapse face-forward. "Between you and the priestesses, I know which side to choose," sniffed the elf to the corpse as he re-concealed his weapon behind his apron.  
  
Tomas and Kievan backed away cautiously from four silently snarling skeletons which were menacingly flailing their maces and swords. Tomas surveyed the undead assailants and said to Kievan, "The window."  
  
"What window?" Kievan snapped as he glanced back at the empty wall behind them.  
  
Tomas raised his crossbow and fired a fiery bolt at one of the skeletons. The skeleton was thrown back as it erupted into flames, leaving a clear path to the tavern's large, elvish-coloured glass window facing the street. "That one."  
  
They both dashed towards the window and hurled themselves against it. The glass shattered as they landed and rolled into the street beyond. As Tomas picked himself up, he found himself facing with a grim figure in priestess robes standing in the street a few feet away.  
  
Kievan caught his breath as he too got up. "Come on!" he gasped before he realised that Tomas was not moving. The man stared at the priestess, not even reloading his crossbow.  
  
The priestess spoke, her voice sharp. "A fine mess you've made of things, Tomas. I should have kept a closer eye on you."  
  
Tomas shrugged as other priestesses surrounded them. "Only doing what I'm good at, Daedra."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Being practical was a quality that the priestesses continually drilled into the initiates. The priestesses mentoring the initiates had decided that since the temple bell had woken everyone in the Convent, they might as well start the day off early.   
  
Karyn muttered a small curse under her breath as she hefted a large wicker basket under one arm which was half-full with bundles of clothes. She had been given the task of collecting the servants' laundry from their rooms. It was not as unpleasant a task as many others which the priestesses were notorious of allocating, but getting up hours before her normal wake up time made her grumpy. In addition to her dark mood, she was fraught with worry over Lydith. Karyn knew of her friend's intention of leaving the temple in the middle of the night, and as far as she knew, Lydith had succeeded. She prayed that the priestesses would not detect her absence until much later, giving Lydith more time to get out of the city.  
  
Karyn turned a corner and walked down a corridor through the servants' quarters of the convent. Near the end of the corridor was an open archway that led to the temple gardens and Karyn could see the pale dawn light creeping in through the archway. The sun rose early and went down late at this time of the year, again giving rise to more practicality from the priestesses as they ordered more things to be done in the longer day light.  
  
She made her way to the nearest door and knocked on it lightly. After hearing no one answer, she pushed the door open and looked for a bundle of clothes which would normally be left next to the door. Karyn almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the room.  
  
"M-my apologies," she stammered after a quick recovery. "I thought no one was in here."  
  
The figure turned its cowled head towards her. Karyn could then see that the figure was wearing priestess robes, but these robes were so old and worn that they were tattered at their very edges. With mounting horror, she watched as the figure lifted a hand towards her. The hand was gaunt and skeletal with black, withered skin covering it. Fingernails caked with dried blood beckoned at the terrified girl.  
  
"Come to me, girl," the figure hissed, its lifeless voice causing a ripple of cold fear down Karyn's spine. Transfixed and unable to look away, she took an involuntary step forward.  
  
"Karyn!?" called a stern voice from outside. "Where are you, you dratted girl!? They are all waiting for you in the laundry room!"  
  
Karyn blinked, as if out of a trance as the figure withdrew its awful hand. She heard it hiss to itself as it drew its robe around itself, and melted into a mass of swirling black specks. The basket toppled unto the floor as Karyn raised her hands protectively when she recognised the mass as a buzzing swarm of black flies. Before she could scream, the flies swarmed around her and out the door. When she turned, she saw the last remnants of the swarm dissipating through the open archway.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
By the time dawn crept over the sky, Lydith, Gameth and Yellow Sky had reached the major junction which joined their road to the Kings Highway. Many years ago, when petty feuds were common among the minor lords of the region, the Good King Teevus had ordered the construction of the Highway, mainly as a means for his armies to move around quickly to surpress any blood-letting which his subjects were determined to initiate. Now, not only did it serve as a military means to keep the peace, it also was a major artery into the city of Mayhew, bringing merchants and travellers to and from the fabled city and the other cities in the region, such as Necroselluem.  
  
Mother Darkfriend saw it all, and sat back from her scrying bowl. The copper-hewn bowl was flat and wide, with symbols of Krypta decorating its inner edge. The image of Lydith and her companions shimmered on the surface of the water in the bowl which was mingled with the Convent Mother's own blood. Shortly after she had attained the title of Convent Mother, the bowl had been presented to her by an allied wizard's guild as a treasured find from the ruins of one of the tomb-like castles of the Necrolyte kings. Since then, she had studied text concerning the bowl, and had discovered a few of its arcane uses.  
  
One of these uses was the ability to create blood stones. These were key in allowing her to scry on whomever who held one of the stones created from her own blood. The red pendant which Lydith wore glinted in the center of the scrying image. Mother Darkfriend stared at the image thoughtfully. Sister Shadowlife had left a few hours ago, bringing with her several priestesses to follow the girl's trail. Mother Darkfriend considered informing Sister Shadowlife of Lydith's whereabouts and thought against it. Sister Shadowlife was capable of tracking the girl herself, and it was not wise to reveal her knowledge so openly. She was certain that the Inner Sect were watching too, and there was too much to lose if their plan failed.  
  
Mother Darkfriend narrowed her eyes as she observed Lydith's tired face. "Where are they leading you, my dear girl?" she muttered to herself. Wherever it was, it would bring them directly to the Inner Sect. 


	10. Chapter 10

Sister ShadowLife watched the entrance of the caverns and waited. She had witnessed the girl and her companions enter the dark place, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that they had walked straight into a trap laid by the Inner Sect. She was certain, however, that the followers of the Sect were intending to capture the girl alive for their own purposes. Of the warrior or the cultist, the priestess cared not if they survived. Once the Sect moved out from the caverns with the girl, she would follow them to the heart of their organisation and uncover the leaders behind this mysterious renegade sect.

A noise behind her caused her to turn. Sister Mortimia stepped out from the dimness of the gnarled trees. "The girl has entered the caverns?" she asked as she approached, her staff in her hands.

Sister Shadowlife nodded. "We will wait here until they emerge, and follow afterward." She frowned at the younger priestess. "Where is Sister Fallowmoon? I thought she was with you?"

"She is with the skeletons," replied Sister Mortimia, coming closer. Without warning, the priestess lifted her staff and hurled a hazy life-draining globe at Sister Shadowlife.

Tales of Sister Shadowlife's legendary feats were justified as the older priestess flung herself to one side to avoid being hit by the globe. However, as she attempted to pick herself up, the end of Sister Mortimia's staff cracked against the side of her head, sending her reeling to the ground again with her own staff flying off to one side. Dazed with blood streaking down her face, Sister Shadowlife looked up to see a gloating Sister Mortimia coming closer, her staff pointed at her like a spear.

"So ends the great Sister Shadowlife," mocked the younger priestess. "Krypta will reward the Inner Sect highly for this."

Sister Shadowlife shook her head. "You? Part of the Sect? You must be mad to think that Krypta approves of your acts of defilements."

Sister Mortimia snorted. "It is ignorant thinking like that which is why the Order of Krypta has not dominated Ardania as it should! Krypta has provided the means for Her power to reign supreme, and yet you, so-called follower of Krypta, refuse to even consider using it!" She held her staff with both hands as she prepared to cast her spell. "Consider this a favour from me, sister. Perhaps Krypta Herself will convince you when you meet Her face to face."

A rustle of dead leaves sounded from one side. "Sister Mortimia!" came the surprised call as Sister Fallowmoon stepped into view. "What are you-?"

A half-snarl on her lips, Sister Mortimia swung her staff towards newcomer. Before Sister Fallowmoon could even react, the surge of Kryptian magic filled the air as a semi-transparent, life-draining globe slammed into her. The priestess fell to her knees, mouth opened in a silent scream, as her life-force was drained from her body, dissipating into the globe around her.

Sister Mortimia turned to find Sister Shadowlife already on her feet. However, instead of running to retrieve her own staff, the priestess came at her, pummelling into younger priestess in an attempt to grab the staff away from her. The two priestesses struggled as each attempted to wrest control. Kryptian magic surged and disrupted as both priestesses called upon their powers, only to have it countered by the other.

For a while, it seemed that neither were gaining any advantage, and then Sister Shadowlife saw her opening. Sliding her hands along the staff upon Sister Mortimia's hands, she spoke the arcane verse to a simple spell. Sister Mortimia shrieked as she released the staff, her hands blistered and withering painfully.

"Consider this a favour returned, Sister Mortimia," growled Sister Shadowlife through gritted teeth as she swung the staff to crack against the younger priestesses's forehead. The Inner Sect priestess crumpled to the ground.

Sister ShadowLife went over to check on Sister Fallowmoon who was still groaning on the ground. The life draining spell had weakened her limbs and robbed her body of life-sustaining energy. Some days of rest and sustenance would see her recover, but for now, the priestess was in no condition to even stand.

_If Mortimia was one of the Sect, then the Sect would know we are here_, thought Sister Shadowlife. _They might have known about us trailing them all along_. She stared at the cavern entrance with growing apprehension. _Krypta's blood, let it not be too late...  
_

* * *

Tomas as silent as he observed the red robed priestess before him.

Aunt Daedra sniffed. "You are getting sloppy, Tomas. In the past, you wouldn't have caused such a commotion breaking into the Temple."

Tomas nodded towards an open-mouthed Kievan behind him. "I had someone else along."

Kievan finally found his tongue. "Someone else!?" he blurted. He pointed at Tomas. "You have to be joking - I have absolutely nothing to do with this man."

"If that is so, then you are to be killed," intoned one of the priestesses next to him.

Kievan blinked. "Pardon me - I meant that I had nothing to do with this man _until _I met him earlier this evening."

Tomas sighed. "Let the boy go, Daedra. He is too young to be mixed up in these matters."

Aunt Daedra considered the request before shaking her head. "I'm afraid I cannot. There is too much at stake, and the slightest error can ruin everything. You will both come with us to the Temple."

* * *

And so for the second time that night, Kievan found himself back in the Temple to Krypta. They had both been ushered into a small chamber at the heart of the Temple which consisted of a plain wooden table and four chairs. Reddish tapestries depicting aspects of Kryptian lore decorated the four bone-white walls of the room. Kievan had found (to his mounting despair) that none of the tapestries had any windows or openings behind them. The young thief fretted as he paced around the room like an caged varg.

"They're going to kill us," he said with conviction. "No one breaks into the Temple and leaves alive. At least no one, as far as I know, has _tried _to break into the Temple at all. I am such a fool to have dared to try. After they deposit our life-drained bodies outside the walls for everyone to see, then people will be able to forever say 'Poor sods. No one breaks into the Temple and leaves alive.'"

Tomas closed his eyes and sighed. In contrast to the young thief, he was seated on one of the chairs with his hands placed calmly on the table. "You worry too much for one so young, boy."

"Don't call me 'boy'," Kievan retorted. "And you place too much trust on that priestess for one so experienced."

"I know her," said Tomas. "I don't think she'll kill me."

"You!? What about me?"

Tomas regarded him critically and answered honestly, "I'm not sure."

"What!?" Before the young thief say anything else, the chamber door opened to admit the familiar figure of Aunt Daedra followed by another priestess. A death-like grip clutched at Kievan's heart as he regarded one who could only be the Convent Mother, one of the most powerful and dreaded priestesses among Krypta's followers. Kings and rulers have probably found themselves as tongue-tied as Kievan at that moment.

"Krypta's blessings, Convent Mother," greeted Tomas almost languidly. He did not stand.

Mother Darkfriend regarded him coolly with her piercing gaze. She briefly looked at Kievan (who had now, in addition to being struck dumb, turned several shades paler) before turning her stare back to Tomas again. "The years have not dulled your abilities, Tomas. Or your insolence."

Tomas smiled. "Some of us never change, do we?"

Mother Darkfriend narrowed her eyes. "No, we don't." She settled herself down on the chair opposite Tomas while Daedra stood just behind her. "Good to see you looking well."

"That's a surprise," said Tomas. "I believe that the last thing you said to me was that if I ever returned to the Temple, you'd animate my bones while I'm still alive and make them tear my own flesh off." Tomas pondered thoughtfully. "I wonder if that's really possible."

"Tomas!" cautioned Daedra. She was about to launch into a sharply worded reprimand when she was stopped by Mother Darkfriend's raised palm.

"That was then," said the Convent Mother. "And it was said mainly because you took Lydia away from us. How you came to win her heart from me, I'll never know, but I was certain that you would have eventually left her, broken and betrayed, and I could not allow that." She lowered her hand. "However, the years have shown that I can be mistaken. And that you can be.. loyal."

"I have always been loyal," replied Tomas. "Only never to you."

"That matters not," said Mother Darkfriend unperturbed. "You have demonstrated loyalty to those you care for. An interesting trait - for an assassin."

By now, Kievan had found his voice. He stared incredulously at Tomas. "You're.. you're the real Tomas the-" He buried his face in his hands in despair. "Oh dear."

Daedra looked at him quizzically, but said nothing.

"So what of it?" asked Tomas to Mother Darkfriend suspiciously, ignoring the young thief beside him.

The Convent Mother leaned back on her chair before she asked, "The Inner Sect. What do you know of them?"

"Enough to know that they want my daughter. And that they hired some rogues from Centuria to track her down and abduct her."

"But what of their ultimate purpose?"

It was Tomas's turn to lean back. "That," he said,"is unimportant to me. I don't care about your Order's internal squabbles or politics. All I want is to get Lydith away from them, and you, and all priestesses in general." He glanced sourly at Aunt Daedra. "Which I probably should have done in the first place."

"You might when you know what these so-called priestesses do," replied Daedra, her voice grim. "The Inner Sect is interested in expanding the power of Krypta to dominate all other religions. We think that they obtained their beliefs from the now-vanquished Lich Queen. Perhaps they, or at least their leaders, were even once followers of the Blighted One. But their idea of furthering the Order of Krypta involves locating women with special Krypta-given powers, whom they refer to as "daughters of Krypta". They believe Krypta favours these "daughters" and that they are to follow the same path which the Liche Queen took when she was once human." Daedra paused as Tomas took this all in.

Tomas drew a deep breath. "So you're telling me that they want to turn Lydith into one of these lich things? All the more I feel that I should take Lydith with me."

"Lydith is not here," revealed Mother Darkfriend. "She left the Temple earlier this evening."

"I know," said Tomas dryly. "I overheard a conversation between one of your priestesses and a lich in one of your rooms."

Mother Darkfriend looked up sharply. "Here? In the Temple?" She hissed to herself. "The Inner Sect is getting even bolder than ever."

"At least now we know how Lydith has been receiving those visions," said Daedra.

"Visions?" Tomas asked.

"The Inner Sect has been sending her visions over these past few months," said Daedra. "She believes that she is going off to rescue me."

"But if you knew about these visions, why did you let-" Then it all clicked together in Tomas's mind. He sprang up, and pointed an angry finger at Mother Darkfriend. "This is another of your twisted schemes, isn't it!? You're using Lydith as bait for the Inner Sect!"

Mother Darkfriend stared impassively back at Tomas. "The Inner Sect must be destroyed by any means necessary."

"And that's what Lydith, me and all of us are to you, isn't it?" snarled Tomas. "A 'means'. Well, you can exclude me and Lydith from your little crusade against this Inner Sect and their lich-making plans."

Not a muscle in Mother Darkfriend had stirred, but somehow she emanated displeasure. "I believe," she said finally. "That you will have some interest in seeing the Sect destroyed, Tomas."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because of what they did to Lydia."


	11. Chapter 11

Lydith stared in horror at the figure in front of her. Slowly, it picked itself up from the ground, its limbs blackened with rotting flesh partially visible through the tattered remains of the priestess robe. All this while, its eyes gazed upon the stricken girl, burning with an intensity that dominated its gaunt face.

Its face. Lydith could not tear her eyes away from its face; a face almost faded from memory but always cherished throughout Lydith's childhood. Her lips formed the word while her mind screamed in denial.

"Mother?"

The creature that was once Lydia smiled ghastily. "Lydith..."

Gameth came up beside her, his blade raised protectively in front of them both. Lydith could see that even the aged warrior had trouble getting words past his throat. "Lydia?" he managed. "What has happened to you?"

The lich looked at the warrior. "Gameth,.. what a pleasant surprise. I must thank you for taking such good care of my daughter.. and for delivering her to me.."

Gameth stared before shaking his head. "No, you're not Lydia. You're using her body, but you're not her."

A hissing laugh sounded from the lich's bloodless lips. "And why should that stop you, Gameth? Didn't you once crave to touch your lips against mine? You told me that yourself-"

"Stop it!" bellowed Gameth, his face contorted with anger. "Lydia is dead! _You _are not Lydia!"

The lich ignored the fuming warrior and turned its gaze upon Lydith who by now had recovered from her initial shock. "A good choice you made, child, bringing him here. When you have fully attained the favour of our Dark Mistress, he will make a fine Lazari."

Lydith closed her eyes as memories swept through her like a flood, of her mother preparing dinner for Tomas and her, of her mother singing her softly to sleep, of her mother instructing her on the art of sewing, a skill she never ever mastered. For months after, Tomas had mercilessly jibed her at her first and last attempt at sewing him a new coat, which had one sleeve tighter than the other and buttons with missing corresponding holes.

The warmth and joy of those memories filled her soul and by the time she opened her eyes to look at the face twisted with evil on the lich, she knew that she could not accept this creature to truly be her mother. Like the undead baker she had raised back in the Temple, her mother's soul had long departed from her body, leaving an empty shell of flesh and memories. And now, something else had taken over. The creature before her was an affront to life, and even death, itself. She grasped Gameth by the arm and they both started to back away. "I'm not here for you," she replied stiffly. "Whatever you are I swear, by Krypta, that you'll pay for what you've done to my mother's body."

She almost bumped into Yellow Sky as she stepped back. The cultist was motioning frantically at her. "Not good," groaned the little man, "Not good at all." Clustered around the cultist, his giant spiders skittered nervously in response to the little man's anxiety.

Surrounding them were the undead. Zombies, skeletons, they emerged from the shadows, blocking the only exit from the cavern. Among them Lydith could see several priestesses, but these priestesses seemed somehow different from the ones she knew from the Temple. _It's their eyes_, she thought when she worked it out. _That almost fanatical gleam in their eyes.._

"Come child," rasped the lich, coming closer to them. "Enough of this wasteful nonsense. Come and accept what Krypta has ordained for you.."

The blade of Gameth's sword hissed through the air in a menacing arc. "Come any closer and you'll regret it," he growled to lich and priestess alike.

"Foolish old man," uttered one of the Inner Sect priestesses as she lifted her staff that was already alight with a deadly glow.

The surge of Kryptian magic filled the air, and the priestess screamed as a life draining globe hit her from the side. Turning to see where the blast had come from, the Inner Sect priestesses were greeted by the sight of Sister Shadowlife standing at the cavern exit, her own gaunt cadavers surrounding her. "Let them go," the priestess ordered, her staff aimed at the lich.

* * *

Sister Shadowlife's control over her undead was tentative at best. The half-dozen skeletons which had accompanied her group was meant to be controlled by at least two priestesses, but with Sister Fallowmoon out of commission, she was left with little choice. She stood at the cavern exit, her staff raised defiantly at the lich on the far side of the chamber, determined not to let any hesitation show.

The lich narrowed its eyes. "You dare interfere with the Dark Goddess, Shadowlife? Your meeting with Her is long overdue." It raised its arms, just as Sister Shadowlife hurled another globe at it. The globe hit, but instead of surrounding the lich, it wavered and surged back at the astonished priestess. The globe would have slammed into the priestess, if not for one of her skeletons leaping into its way. The skeleton disintegrated immediately into a thousand fragments.

Gritting her teeth, the priestess mentally ordered her remaining skeletons to charge into the cavern as she moved to get out of the open.

* * *

Gameth had taken full advantage of the distraction and was already charging at the undead blocking the exit. Bellowing mightily, the aged warrior chopped into the first line of the undead, bone and rotting limbs scattering in all directions as the warrior attempted to carve his way towards the exit. Meanwhile, the spiders around Yellow Sky spread out attacked the undead nearest to them. Yellow Sky hooted as he pulled Lydith to follow Gameth.

The Inner Sect priestesses had taken only an instant to react. Chanting their evocations, some directed their undead skeletons and zombies towards the warrior, cultist and girl while others blasted their life draining globes at where Sister Shadowlife was. Gameth could see that the priestess had already taken cover behind a large column near the exit and was preparing to hurl her own globes back at them. Her skeletons engaged some of the Inner Sect's undead, both sides slashing and hacking at each other with equal force.

There were a few Inner Sect priestesses who aimed at different targets though. A life draining globe hit one of the spiders as it ravaged a flailing zombie. The spider squealed as it crumpled to the ground, its legs cringing in its death throes.

Witnessing the spider's death, Yellow Sky threw back his head and howled. At first, Gameth thought that the little man had gone mad (if that were further possible), but then his breath caught when he saw brown hairs springing out from the cultist's body. His howl turned into an awful roar of rage as the little man swelled over twice his size and transformed into a huge hellbear.

* * *

Lydith was crouching next to Yellow Sky when the little man changed his form into a hellbear the size of a small hut. She watched as the roaring beast charged at a group of priestesses who were frantically hurling life draining globes at it. The globes hit, but only served to further enrage the massive bear as it tore into skeletons and zombies with its dreadfully long claws.

Beyond that, the girl could do little to help because of the screaming voices in her head. They came from all directions, words filled with hate, spite and pain searing across the fore-front of her mind. _Must kill all!.. Death to living!.. Tear flesh from bone!.. Aah, the pain, such endless pain!.. _Lydith tried to block out the mental screams as she struggled to keep up with Gameth. The aged warrior was leaving a trail of dismembered bodies and bones in his wake and she stepped over the remains of a zombie's arm, almost tripping as it clawed at her feet.

The undead. There were just too many of them. She was unsure how many Inner Sect priestesses were there, but there must be quite a number of them to commandeer the horde of undead which was in their way. And even when chopped down, some of the undead skeletons were picking themselves up, their priestesses' magic rebuilding their broken ribcages and limbs. Already she could see that the aged warrior was tiring, while his undead opponents just kept mercilessly hacking in return. And Yellow Sky, even in his raging form, was too busy being harrassed by the undead while the priestesses blasted him with their globes.

_Kill the living!.. Squeeze the life from their necks!.. Die!! All must die!!.._

Desperately, she raised her hands to her head and screamed, with her mind and her mouth.

"STOP!!"

* * *

Gameth chopped through two more zombies before he realised that the undead were not moving. No, he corrected himself, they still had movement, but they were just standing there with their arms swaying and heads craning, as if listening for something. Beyond them, the warrior could see the Inner Sect priestesses looking astonished as their evocations failed to command their undead.

A low, hissing laugh filled the cavern. "Excellent, my child, excellent," crooned the lich. It had not moved throughout the entire fight. "Accept what the Dark Goddess has given you. Fulfill Her wishes and use your gift as it was meant to be."

Lydith was panting, her hands still on the sides of her head as she struggled to keep standing. All around the cavern, the undead were staring at her, as if waiting for her to say something. The Inner Sect priestesses were getting panicked now, their efforts on their evocations re-doubled as they sought to wrest back control over their immobile undead.

The lich took a step towards her. "The will of Krypta is filled with hate," it rasped. "Hatred for the living, their foul stench infecting the lands like a disease." Its voice took a commanding tone. "Kill the living, child. Krypta demands it."

Lydith's head rose as she stared around the cavern, at the undead, at her friends, at the Inner Sect priestesses. She then looked at the lich. "No," she replied. "I don't believe you." And with that, she released the undead to their rest.

With a collective sigh, the undead started to crumble around her. Almost half of them had collapsed by the time the lich screamed with rage. "Foolish girl!" it shrieked. "You will be punished for your insolence!" In its mind, it hissed a command which only Lydith could hear. The girl screamed as she heard it.

The remaining undead went completely beserk. Snarling with mindless fury, they tore into anything around them, other undead, screaming Inner Sect priestesses, and Lydith's friends. Gameth swore as he cut and dodged and parried. Plunging his sword into a snarling zombie, he suddenly found that he could not pull out his blade in time to block a slash from a skeleton in front of him. A crack sounded, and the skeleton's upper torso was snapped aside by Sister Shadowlife's staff. "Get the girl," she said firmly to him.

Gameth nodded and grabbed Lydith who had stumbled along behind him. When they reached the cavern exit, Lydith pulled back at Gameth. "Yellow Sky," she gasped exhaustedly. "He's still in there."

Gameth grimaced but Sister Shadowlife set a stern look. "The cultist must fend for himself," she said. "It is suicide to enter that place again."

Before Lydith could protest, a sudden gale blew out from the cavern as black flies swarmed out of the cavern. The swarm buzzed around them and Lydith could distinctly hear the lich's voice amidst the noise. "You will learn, girl," it said. "The will of Krypta is not so easily thwarted.." With that, the swarm left them and dissipated into the night sky.

* * *

Aunt Daedra arrived at Tomas's quarters to find the man packing rations into his backpack. Tomas was already dressed in his black leather outfit with the orange-rimmed hood pushed back behind his head, revealing his black and grey hair.

"I see that you've already been told that you can go," she said from the doorway.

Tomas grunted and did not look up from his packing. "Mother Darkfriend informed me this morning. That priestess Sister ShadowLife is bringing Lydith back to the temple. They'll be here in a few days."

A brief silence as Aunt Daedra observed Tomas. Many years ago, the man who was one of the most feared members of the Rogue's Guild had packed his backpack in almost the same fashion as what he did now. From what Daedra knew, he was leaving because Lydia had told him to do so. Although Daedra had half-expected it, but she was still surprised when Lydia followed him only a few hours after he had left.

Daedra was almost caught off-guard when the memory nearly trailed a tear down her white-powdered face. She immediately checked herself and focused her attention on Tomas. "I thought that you would have liked to see Lydith before you left."

Tomas closed his backpack and tightened the straps. "I've kept my past from Lydith all this while. I think it's best kept that way. It's hard enough for her to deal with her mother being a priestess, let alone her father being an assassin."

"Lydith cares for you more than she cares about your past," urged Aunt Daedra. "You've left all that behind you years before Lydith was even born."

Tomas thought for a while and then shook his head stubbornly. "No, it's better this way."

Aunt Daedra sighed to herself. "So what are you going to do now?" she asked out of curiosity.

Tomas picked up his crossbow and checked the loading mechanism. "Run a few personal errands, meet up with some old acquaintances, some of them not that friendly. Perhaps they can tell me where I can find those whom you call the Inner Sect. Lydith will never be safe while they are around." He slung the crossbow over his shoulder behind his back.

Aunt Daedra regarded him sternly. "You are a fool to think that you can deal with the Inner Sect yourself. Avenging Lydia's death could spell your own." She then sighed. "Why do I even try? There is no point in warning you. You think warnings are there to be ignored. I can never see what Lydia saw in you."

Despite his mood, Tomas grinned. "Like you said, Daedra, like you said. I ignored her warnings."

* * *

It had rained the night before in Necroselleum. Pools of rain water turned the street beside the Temple to Krypta into a muddy slush that hampered wagons and sullied pedestrians. The air was filled with the cursing from wagon drivers, and no one noticed the servant's door to the Temple open to let Tomas out. He looked around briefly before starting his way down the street, pushing through the throngs of people who all seemed to think that they each had the right of way.

He had walked down several streets before he darted into a secluded alleyway. Drawing his dagger in one hand, Tomas waited in the shadows for almost a minute before another man entered the same alleyway. Sliding out of his hiding place behind the man, Tomas had his dagger over his throat before growling, "Why are you following me?"

"Tomas! It's me! Kievan!" gasped Kievan as he raised his hands in surrender.

Tomas's dagger did not slice his throat, but did not move away either. "I'm still waiting for an answer, boy."

Kievan's back straightened. "I'm following you because I want to join you," he said stiffly. "And don't call me 'boy'."

Tomas let his dagger linger for a second before lowering it. Kievan turned around to face him as Tomas slid the dagger into a hidden shealth inside his tunic. "Alright, Kievan," he said finally. "Why would you want to do a stupid thing like joining me?"

Kievan took a deep breath. "Because you're Tomas the Taker," he began. "People still talk about you, you know, back at the guild. They say that you could steal a dragon's hoard from right under it while it sleeps." He crossed his arms. "I joined the Rogue's Guild because I wanted to learn to be the best. They told me I was too young, but I've proved it to them time and again that I have what it takes. Now, I've realised that if I want to be the best, I must learn from the best." He gave Tomas a look that was a curious blend of pleading and defiance.

Tomas just shook his head. "You don't know what you're asking for, Kievan. Admiration has lost its meaning to me long ago. It usually brings nothing but some young whelps who think they can make a name for themselves by stabbing me in my sleep."

Kievan stared straight at him. "You wouldn't find me doing that, sir. Despite what the priestesses say, I think I would benefit little from a dead man. Besides," he added, "if what is said is true, I don't think you do sleep."

The noise from the wagons outside filled the silence as Tomas considered the young thief before him. He then turned and walked towards the street. "Don't expect me to dig you out from every tight spot you get yourself into, boy."

Despite being called 'boy', Kievan grinned and hurried after the man.


	12. Epilogue

It took a full day for Sister Fallowmoon to recover enough to stand up and walk. The priestess was fuming at the betrayal of Sister Mortimia, and was all for re-animating her bones when Sister Shadowlife ordered her not to. It was uncertain how long the lich's power would linger in the area, and she felt it best not to raise any undead until they were much further away.

Throughout the day, Lydith and Gameth busied themselves by burying the remains of the dead found in the caverns. In the morning after the lich had left, the aged warrior had cautiously re-entered the caverns in search for the elusive cultist. He did not find any sign of Yellow Sky, or his spiders, but he did find remains of what were most likely the Inner Sect priestessess and their undead, although by then it was hard to tell which was which. Lydith had insisted on the mass burial while Sister Shadowlife watched on with a bemused look.

When they were finally ready to leave, Lydith turned to Gameth, her concern written in her face. "Do you think Yellow Sky made it out alright?" she asked the aged warrior. Gameth could not answer her, but Lydith was not expecting one either, so they just left it as that.

It was only later while they were passing through the dark forest when he noticed some movement beyond the trees. He thought he made out the hulking shape of a bear followed by a few spiders just as it disappeared into the gloom. Turning to Lydith, the warrior found himself smiling. "The cultist is alright," he told her confidently. "Aye, girl, he's alright."

To his own astonishment, he actually felt relieved.

* * *

Aunt Daedra knocked on the door of Mother Darkfriend's study and was promptly told to enter. The Convent Mother was back at her desk, writing with her goose quill pen.

"The priestesses closest to Sister Mortimia have all been rounded up, dread mother," she informed Mother Darkfriend.

The Convent Mother continued to write as she answered. "Tell them that they have been re-assigned. They are to leave immediately for the Isle of Sydrian. Karn will accompany them to ensure no mishaps occur."

Aunt Daedra frowned over this. The Isle of Sydrian was a windy, shrub-filled rock off the western coast. Apart from a tiny fishing village, the only other inhabitants on the island were the priestesses who maintained the underground sanctuary of catacombs that housed the royal dead of the House of Sydrian. It is said that the tombs were built by the dwarves centuries ago to honor the memory of Sydrian the Wandering King and his family, and are so deep underground that priestesses were known never to see sunlight for months at a time. Not that the rain-covered island had much sun in the first place.

Mother Darkfriend looked up from her writing. "You do not approve, Sister Daedra? You know as well as I that we cannot risk the possibility of any one of them being a spy for the Inner Sect. In the days past, they would have been simply killed, or chosen as substitute sacrifices to Krypta. Compared to that, this is a more lenient solution."

Daedra bowed her head submissively. "Yes, Mother Darkfriend." As she turned to leave, she had a slight hesitation.

Mother Darkfriend detected it immediately. "Yes, Sister Daedra," she asked. "What is it?"

"I-," began Daedra, faltering a bit before resuming, "It's about the girl Lydith, dread mother. One of the last promises I made to Lydia was that I'll not expose her daughter to the ways of Krypta, lest she be doomed to share the same fate as she did." She looked down to the floor reflectively. "I feel like I've betrayed my closest friend."

Mother Darkfriend stared impassively at her for a while before answering, "The will of Krypta is higher than the promises of mortals like you and I, Sister Daedra. Krypta determines all what we do, all whom we meet, all whom we influence. Even Lydia will understand this. How is it possible for you to betray her when you both have pledged to serve Krypta unquestioningly?"

Sister Daedra nodded slightly and turned towards the door again. As she opened it, she noticed the undead lazari Karn staring at her with its glowing red eyes. Looking into those eyes, she tried to imagine if there were truly thoughts of agony echoing in the undead's skull, as Lydia had continually told her about. Hearing nothing but the sound of her own breath, the priestess broke her stare and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

**The End**


End file.
